“He asked his secretary where you were, but the servant said he didn’t know. The Zar said no more. He sent a note to the harem. He is bringing the boating trip forward. He asked Salmeo to make preparations.

They include you.”

“I see. Very good, Razeen. Be careful.”

“You must not worry about me.”

Pez nodded unhappily, unbalanced by the young man’s confidence. “Focus on the Grand Vizier. I want everything you can tell me about him.”

“That will be easy.”

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Pez found an uneasy yet soft smile. “Take no unnecessary risk.”

“I must go,” Razeen replied. “I might be missed.”

Pez nodded again. “Lyana watch over you.”

Razeen grinned in the cocksure way of those possessed with a youthful sense of invincibility. Pez felt the fragility of such delusion and shivered. He promised himself to take even more precaution with these meetings as he watched Razeen step through the doors leading back into the suite of chambers that belonged to the Zar.

9

It was no good. Despite her best efforts, Ana could not contain the general excitement within the harem spilling into screeches and raised voices that were not considered appropriate for any of the odalisques.

And she could not blame a single one of her companions, for she, too, had felt her heart swell this morning at the news that their boat picnic had been brought forward—they were going out today.

For almost two weeks they had been trapped inside doing tedious needlework and tirelessly rehearsing court etiquette—how to behave when addressed by the Valide, how to behave in front of the Zar, his guests, visiting dignitaries. There were endless lessons, and although most of the young women took to these studies with enthusiasm—for they were eager to succeed in the harem—the bright days outside served only to make Ana feel listless and downright resentful at times. It felt like punishment on these sparkling spring mornings to be cooped up inside. Even her pleasure at language studies had been sorely tested.

When Ana had awoken this morning she hadn’t thought she could bear another day like the previous one. Even though some good sense had discouraged her from doing anything unwise, Ana couldn’t help her mind wandering off. Physical freedom called to her softly like the breeze off the Faranel, but emotional freedom…perhaps that could never be attained, even in her daydreams. The pain of losing Lazar was her closest companion, a dull, soft ache, one she knew she would have to learn to live alongside for as long as she breathed.

The Valide’s threat that the Zar would choose her in the near future had rattled her as well. Ana wasn’t naive; she understood her role in the harem and she would have to have the brain of a bird not to realize that Boaz was already showing a hunger for her. But she hadn’t thought it would happen so soon.

Frowning, she turned her thoughts to the chilling conversation she had had with Pez the previous night.

What he had said didn’t scare her. If anything, it made her feel empowered, as if suddenly everything around her was trite and pointless. Well…perhaps everything but Spur Lazar. Ana wanted nothing to do with life in the harem, but it had given her Lazar and for that she felt a modicum of gratitude. If the old Zar had not died, if the palace had not needed to assemble a new harem, if Herezah had not wanted to punish Lazar by sending him on the girl-hunting task that he found so distasteful, if her stepmother had not been so ready to sell her into slavery, ridding herself of the orphaned child she detested, then Ana might never have known such love in her life as she felt for the Spur.

They had taken his body from her but they would never be able to take away her feelings for him or her brief but vivid memory of touching him, looking into his eyes and recognizing the sorrow deep within, sensing his secrets and, yes, his startled desire for her. She had understood how he struggled against the tide of his emotions. But there was nothing wrong in loving each other; Ana knew their love was pure and would always remain that way, for it had never moved beyond the unspoken pain of forbidden yearning.

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So felt no fear this morning. Not even after Salmeo’s unsettling news, when he had announced to the general harem that the boating trip would be moved forward. The subsequent squeals of anticipation and unrestrained joy from the girls had brought a smile to the Grand Master Eunuch’s thick lips.

“We do our best,” he had said to Ana, his tongue darting out to moisten those fat lips.

She had apologized several times for the girls’ lack of composure, even struggling to contain her own pleasure, but his huge hand had waved away her softly spoken requests for forgiveness. “They are still children, Ana, I understand.”

She had known this to be a lie—Salmeo would never understand childhood needs—but she had schooled her expression to remain contrite. “I promised the Valide that I would teach them to comport themselves properly, Grand Master Eunuch,” she tried to explain.

He had smiled indulgently, confusing her. “Fret not. The Valide places much faith in you, Odalisque Ana, and I’m sure your skills in leadership will be a great help in preparing the girls for this outing.” He had paused momentarily. The smell of violets had assaulted her as he spoke and, combined with Salmeo’s cloying sweetness, had set her nerves jangling. The Grand Master Eunuch had continued: “Which is why it is a little sad that you cannot join the rest of the harem on this trip.” Ana had thought she had heard him wrong. She had stared at him, frowning in confusion.

“Oh dear,” he had sighed softly, “perhaps the Valide has not already mentioned this. She requires your company today.” He had given a moue of sympathy. “She should be here any moment and will no doubt explain.”

“Remain behind?” Ana had asked, unable to hide her distress. “But I’ve been looking forward to this outing as much as the others,” she had gabbled, only quieting herself with force of willpower.

“I appreciate the fact that the timing is not ideal,” Salmeo had replied, his light voice all the more irritating for its contrived tone of sorrow on her behalf, “but I am led to believe that you and the Valide have a special understanding. Is that right?” Ana stared at him, baffled, so Salmeo filled the awkward silence.

“Apparently you are to assist the Valide in all her needs. You’ve agreed to be reliable and trustworthy…no rebelliousness.”

Ana had shaken her head, clearing the cobwebs of disbelief. “I have agreed to that but—”

“Ah,” he had interrupted, smiling as if everything was settled.

“But I never—”

“Hush, Ana. No rebellion, remember?” Salmeo had said lightly, giggling behind the chubby, bejeweled finger he had held to his lips to silence her.

Ana had steeled herself to remain composed. “As the Valide chooses,” she had managed to grind out politely, even bowing with some semblance of courtesy, but as she had straightened she could see only delight in the eunuch’s eyes. They had planned this. This had been deliberately done to build up her hopes and then dash them. Was Boaz in on the plot? She didn’t think so, but she also could not understand why the Valide would provoke her. When they had met, Herezah had appeared—to all intents—to genuinely want the two of them to be more companionable.

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Of course, Herezah knew that in order to remain close to her son she would also need to accept his women, especially his wives. While the Valide had chosen all the girls in the harem herself, it was up to Boaz to select which of them would fill the premium positions.

Ana understood that she and the Valide had gotten off to a very poor start. Her escape had humiliated the harem. But Herezah’s cares were not really centered on the harem, were they? The harem was her seat of power, the realm over which she presided with her fat partner in cunning, but it was not where her heart lay. Her heart was with a much larger power—with the Zar, and in ensuring those ties were never fractured. Was this all about preventing Boaz from spending time with the odalisque he seemed to be favoring?

Now the Valide swept into the room, gorgeously attired in tightly bound dark silks. She was certainly not going on any boat outing, judging by such sumptuous robes. Ana’s heart sank as she watched Herezah glide effortlessly toward her, without even sparing a glance toward Salmeo.

Ana bowed as graciously as she could. “Valide,” was all she would trust herself to say.

“I see there’s an air of hysteria in the harem this morning.” Ana nodded. “The girls have just found out that the Zar’s boating trip is taking place today. They’ve been looking forward to this since joining the harem.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Herezah answered in her smoky voice. “And you, Ana, you don’t echo their joy.” Her smile was bright.

“Not since hearing that I will not be joining them on this outing, Valide. I understand that you need my services.”

“I do.”

Ana nodded. She dared not say more, she was busy fighting back tears.

“Why so sad, Ana? Does a day with me sound so disappointing?”

“Forgive me, Valide,” Ana replied, bobbing a small curtsy. “I allowed myself to anticipate a day out on the water. I am struggling a little, I’ll admit, to resign myself to the idea that I will not be enjoying this freedom.”

“Ah, freedom,” Herezah echoed. “A powerful notion, eh?” Ana nodded, desperately trying to hide her misery. “But what makes you think that freedom has been denied?” Ana watched as the now fully veiled girls were being herded out of the chamber. She could see beyond to where Salmeo’s army had trunks of provisions to take with them, no doubt filled with everything from fresh clothes to drying linens, should the girls decide to swim. And from the kitchens Ana imagined another army was steadily marching with an endless array of baskets carrying sumptuous food worthy of the Zar’s special picnic for his women. She sighed. “I understand you have some work for me to do, Valide,” she replied.

Herezah’s eyebrow lifted sardonically. “If you call a shopping expedition into the city work, then so be it.”

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Ana couldn’t help her display of surprise. One hand covered her mouth just in time to stop the shriek.

Herezah smiled. “I can’t imagine what Salmeo led you to believe, my girl, but we are not working on a fine day like this. I promised you an escorted trip into the city, did I not?” Ana nodded dumbly.

“Well, hurry up and get ready, girl.”

“We’re going together?”

“Who else did you think would have the right taste and experience to choose fabrics and jewelery for a Zar’s wife?” Herezah commented archly, and at Ana’s disbelieving expression, she laughed, not unkindly.

“I shall give you until the next bell or I leave without you. Fully veiled, remember.”

“I’ll be ready in moments,” Ana replied eagerly. Perhaps it would be a day of freedom after all?

BOAZ WAS NOT SHARINGthe same pleasure. He had welcomed the girls of his harem theatrically and with a certain dashing charm that had them giggling beneath their veils, but it was hard to pick who each might be and his first hungry stare had not picked her out.

He watched them now excitedly clambering aboard the royal barges that, according to the Grand Vizier, had not felt the water for years.

“Are you sure you won’t be coming with us today, Grand Vizier?” he offered again, not really interested but needing something to say as he searched for Ana.

“No, my Zar. There is plenty of dull paperwork for me to plow through, and as boring as it is compared to a day on the river in your fine company and amongst these bright young things, I do think I must remain dutiful.”

“Your self-sacrifice is impressive, Tariq,” Boaz quipped.

His high-ranking servant grinned back and shrugged. “I shall take much pleasure in hearing about the expedition tonight.”

“You will take supper with me, Tariq.”

“Very good, Highness. An opportune time to run through some important items. I shall take my leave, my Zar, and wish you a wonderfully uplifting day enjoying the natural wonders of Percheron.” His dark eyes slid over the boats filled with young women and both of them knew he wasn’t referring to the river or the scenery.

Boaz nodded and then shook his head ruefully. Tariq had taken to making clever jests, smacking of a wit the Zar had never once witnessed in the Vizier during his time as heir. Tariq had always seemed so self-obsessed and sexless that it had not once occurred to Boaz to imagine that the Vizier was interested in women, and yet recently Boaz had seen the Grand Vizier pay an appreciative roving glance to the palace’s female servants.

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He beckoned to Salmeo, who lightly hurried toward him. “Majesty?”

“Where is Pez?”

Salmeo looked at him blankly. “I have not seen him, my Zar.”

“I specifically asked Bin to ensure he was here today to entertain the girls.” The Vizier, seeming to overhear their conversation, stepped close to the Zar. “If I may, Majesty?” Salmeo scowled but Boaz nodded. “Bin did mention that he hadn’t been able to locate the dwarf.”

“I see. So he will not be with us today.” When both his senior servants remained silent Boaz exploded angrily. “This is not acceptable! The Zar’s clown—who enjoys significant indulgence, I might add—should at least be present when the Zar wants him.”

“I couldn’t agree more, my Zar,” Salmeo replied.

The Grand Vizier nodded in agreement. “Highness, let me see if we can find him now. You will still be a little while loading the boats. May I try for you?”

Salmeo’s scowl darkened. “Zar Boaz, if the Vizier cannot locate your jester, perhaps I can have him hunted down in your absence?”

“He’s not an animal, Grand Master Eunuch,” Boaz snapped. “You make it sound as if you’d enjoy the chase. Would you beat him with a stick when you caught him?” Turning back to the Grand Vizier, the Zar continued more calmly: “Thank you, Tariq. If you can locate him easily, I think the young ladies would benefit from his sense of fun today.”

“And if not, my Zar?”

“Inform him of my displeasure,” came the curt reply.

The Grand Vizier bowed and took his leave. Salmeo remained, his bulk overwhelming the trim figure of the Zar. “I did not mean any insult, Highness,” Salmeo said humbly.

Boaz turned to stare up into the eunuch’s hooded gaze, his eyes buried deeply amongst the folds of flesh. The man never failed to revolt him. “You have never found Pez amusing.”

“But I know you do, Highness, and your father before you. I would not let anything bad happen to someone so important to our Crown.”

Boaz smelled the violets on the man’s breath and was again reminded of his slippery ways. His mother had warned him often enough that he knew Salmeo was saying what he imagined the Zar wanted to hear.

He felt a sense of anger drop like stone in his stomach at the eunuch’s honeyed words, at odds with how he was feeling about Pez right now.

“The dwarf is not my favorite person just at present, Salmeo: it is true he has displeased me. But don’t imagine that gives anyone the right to treat Pez in any way other than has always been demanded in this palace. That said, you would all do well to know that I will not tolerate any form of insubordination, not even from him.”

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Salmeo blinked slowly, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips in a ritual that Boaz thought made him look like a reptile. “Of course, Highness. Are you sure there is nothing I can do to help with the dwarf?”

“No; Tariq can handle it,” Boaz snapped again, frustrated further now that he’d revealed to this cunning man his displeasure with Pez. He had not intended to, but not sighting Ana and the disappointment of his run-in with Pez had left him feeling hollow on a day that was meant to be all about fun. And lately he felt as though he was no longer in control of his moods. The smallest things seemed to darken his humor. He needed to talk to Pez just when he had banished him in anger. Noticing that Salmeo was still regarding him intently, Boaz pulled himself sharply from his thoughts. “Where is Odalisque Ana, by the way?” he demanded, hoping to distract the eunuch from his falling-out with the dwarf.

He watched the eunuch’s expression rearrange itself from intrigue to a carefully contrived look of sympathy. “Odalisque Ana will not be joining us today, Highness.” Even though discontent had knifed through him at not spotting her easily, it had not occurred to Boaz that she wouldn’t be present at all. He struggled to keep the disappointment from his voice. “Why ever not? Is she unwell?”

“She is in fine health, Majesty.”

“Then where is she?”

“She is with the Valide today, Highness.”

Boaz frowned, totally confused. “My mother? What is this about?” The huge man shrugged but kept it courteous. “She did not share that with me, Your Highness. I was simply told that the Valide wished the Odalisque Ana to accompany her today on a trip into the city.”

“To do what?”

“I don’t know, Majesty. Womanly things, presumably.” Now Salmeo smiled, showing the gap between his teeth. “The Valide is looking for new fabrics and she prefers to choose them herself. I imagine she sees taking Ana along with her a special honor to confer on an odalisque.” Boaz thought differently but this time he resisted sharing what was on his mind. “Are they still in the palace?”

“Sadly not,” Salmeo replied. “They left early.”

A new swell of fury rose within Boaz now. He was certain he was being manipulated. This would put everyone back on notice about who was in charge in the palace. “I see.” Before he could help himself, he ordered, “Have Odalisque Ana fully prepared for me this evening.” The wordprepared had special meaning to the keeper of the harem and its effect was immediate and dramatic. “Prepared, Highness? Do I understand you correctly?” Salmeo blustered, clearly caught off guard.

Before Boaz could respond, the mute, Salazin, ran up to him, bowing low before the Zar. When the man straightened to eye level, Boaz fixed an angry look of inquiry on his face, hugely irritated at the Page 82

interruption.

One of the Elim spoke up. “He needs to run back to your chambers, Majesty. We have forgotten—”

“Yes, yes, don’t trouble me with these trivialities!” Boaz admonished. The Elim and the mute retreated, Salazin running at full speed to retrieve whatever had been left behind.

“Apologies,” Salmeo said, “I believe the Grand Vizier has instructed the mutes never to leave your side without royal sanction.”

More irritation flickered in the Zar’s darkening eyes. He ignored the man’s explanation and returned to their original conversation. “You asked whether you understand me. We both speak Percherese perfectly well, Grand Master Eunuch. I think my plain wording should have made it precisely clear for you. Tell me what you understand by my order.” Though he deliberately kept his voice low, the threat was still evident.

Salmeo actually took a step back. Boaz liked that he’d shocked the fat eunuch.

“My understanding, Highness, is that you wish Odalisque Ana to be readied for bedding by her Zar.

That you choose to claim her virginity this night.”

The Zar beamed, not prepared to show even a slight clue of how much that statement petrified him.

“Good, I’m glad I made myself perfectly plain,” he replied condescendingly. “Don’t make any excuses for disappointing my wishes this time, Grand Master Eunuch. I shall expect to see her.” He added as a vicious parting shot: “After my supper, which I’m taking with the Grand Vizier.” Turning, he stalked away to the boats.

10

Salmeo knew he had to catch the Valide before she and Ana left the palace. It appeared as though their crafty plan was to be outwitted by the Zar and his helpless infatuation for the girl. He found the Valide draping herself with the dark veil that would cover her tight silks from head to toe for her excursion.

She looked at him, surprised. “I permitted you only because my servants said you were breathless. So presumably this is important?”

“Highly,” he said, sucking in air.

“Zarab save us! That run has cost you, eunuch. More than important, then…dangerous, even?”

“Very,” he managed to say, bending over slightly to help himself breathe.

“Well, get on with it, Salmeo. I’m about to depart the palace. The karaks have arrived and I don’t want to linger long enough for the sun to warm them too much.”

“Valide,” he began, wondering how best to deliver this news. She glowered at him. “It’s about Odalisque Ana.”

“What of her?” she demanded, irritated.

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“The Zar has chosen her. Just now,” he said, not sure how to read the mask that was her expression.

Silence engulfed Herezah and he watched her complexion blanch as she struggled to absorb his words.

He couldn’t even enjoy her shock because this turn of events had implications for him as much as the Valide. “I have just been ordered by the Zar to prepare her for tonight.”

“Already? Are you absolutely sure?” she croaked, her full attention given to him now.

He nodded grimly. “There is no mistake. Your son made it embarrassingly clear what he intends for the girl. We are too late, Valide.”

“Nonsense!” Herezah admonished, rapidly gathering up her wits and regaining her composure. “We just have to put our plan into action faster.”

“It’s impossible,” Salmeo said, shaking his head in surprise. “The Zar means this night.”

“And she will be gone by tonight!” Herezah snarled at him in a low, angry voice. “See to it. Make all the preparations that we’ve discussed. The girls will return tired but happy, presumably—we might as well keep that mood going with a little surprise of our own. Not only Boaz can offer them treats.” Salmeo nodded slowly. “Perhaps it can be achieved,” he said, thinking it through.

“It will be, Grand Master Eunuch. Make it happen. I am going out now with Ana. We will not be long.

Her taste of freedom will be brief and I’m sure will put her into the right frame of mind…especially after I allude to what’s in store for her tonight.”

The slyness of Salmeo’s grin spread across his face until it danced in his dark eyes. “Clever, my Valide.

Oh, and I have more news that will please you.”

“Oh yes?”

“The dwarf has done something to displease your son. The Zar is so displeased, in fact, that he admitted it to me himself in a state of high temper.”

“You jest.”

The huge black man shook his head. “Told me himself that he would not tolerate such insubordination from his servants. He tried to steer it into more general terms, but he was clearly referring to Pez.”

“Was Pez present?” Herezah asked enthusiastically, hungry for the details.

“He’s gone missing,” Salmeo replied, fueling her hunger. “But no one knows where or why.” Herezah clapped her hands. “Excellent,” she purred. “This could be a special day for us. Where is the Vizier?”

“He is remaining at the palace, says he is very busy with work.” Herezah made a disparaging sound at this. “Busy spying, perhaps. I’m going now; you will put into action all that is necessary. Keep an eye on the Vizier; I’m interested to know what he does when he is not answerable to the Zar.”

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Salmeo nodded. “Enjoy your shopping expedition.”

She smiled cruelly. “You know I will.”

HEREZAH FOUND ANA VEILED, flanked by two Elim, and patiently awaiting her high-ranking companion. The Valide saw the smile in the girl’s eyes as she approached, escorted by her own Elim.

The odalisque bowed. “Valide.”

“Valide, I shall see to your instructions.”

Herezah nodded an acknowledgment of the greeting. The women were guided out of the cool shadows of the palace’s interior and into the sharp sunlight of the day.

Ana squinted. “This is very exciting for me, Valide,” she gushed helplessly, allowing one of the Elim to assist her into the karak.

Herezah was being given similar assistance into her karak. “I hope you have a wonderful time, Ana. This freedom is my gift to you,” she said, smirking beneath her veil.

Herezah gave the signal and the bearers lifted the two karaks, easily bearing them down the palace pathways toward the main gates. Herezah could see Ana’s almost palpable sense of excitement; in her own karak, she plotted precisely what she was going to say to her naive companion in order to provoke her into making the biggest mistake of her short life.

PEZ ARRIVED BACK AThis small chamber to find a note. He recognized instantly that it was from Razeen, and its hastily scribbled scrawl clearly reflected the urgency of the contents.

Apparently he was in further trouble with the Zar, having failed to present himself for the boating trip.

Pez cursed himself for the oversight—he’d forgotten in his rush to warn Zafira. No one had told him it was leaving this morning. He shook away his concern. There was nothing to be done until the Zar returned and summoned him. More frightening was the news that Boaz had chosen Ana and instructed the Grand Master Eunuch to prepare her for tonight.

Unsure of what to do but knowing he had to do something, Pez changed into more formal dress for the court and waddled out of his room, only to be assailed by two massive Elim. He began to dance, gabbling a stream of gibberish. The guards guided him, gently but firmly, beyond the halls of the harem and into the palace proper.

“Where go we?” he sang.

“We have orders to bring you to the Grand Vizier,” one of the eunuchs answered patiently.

Pez felt his throat clamp with fear.

“Vizier, Vizier,” he sang, thinking fast.

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“The Zar asked him to find you,” the other Elim said.

“I don’t want to see a snake,” Pez whined, childlike.

“But you must,” the first said softly, smiling, probably because Pez’s madness was making odd sense. “It is what Zar Boaz wishes,” he added.

This news was disturbing. Had Boaz given the Vizier permission to do more than simply find the court jester—perhaps police him, or even punish him? He took the last remaining moments he had, no longer struggling but centering himself to bring all of his Lore skills to the fore. He forced all that was Iridor deep within himself, hiding it from Maliz, burying it so far away that the demon would not be able to find it even if he looked for magic. He wondered if Maliz already suspected him of being Iridor. It certainly seemed as if Maliz was not just suspicious but now searching for evidence.

Make my madness my armor, O Mother. Encase me in your love, protect me from evil, let my Lore confuse him and keep me safe,Pez whispered, his lips barely moving.

He would need to give his best performance ever and somehow throw the Vizier off his scent.

There was still so much to achieve before Maliz killed him.

ANA SIGHED WITH Asense of restless wonder as the karak moved beyond the Moon Courtyard and through the palace gates. As the Stone Palace was perched on a hill, she knew she must hold on for safety now as the Elim adjusted their grip and began the descent. The sense of freedom she felt was so strong she was sure the air smelled sweeter, and the colors were brighter. All the darkness that she had been carrying the past year dissipated to leave her lighthearted. Her emotions were clashing into one another; Ana felt at once elated and teary. Forcing herself under control, she knew that her tears came from her understanding that this was only temporary, and that sadness made the joy of being out amongst the people even more poignant.

The karak was no longer traveling at an angle; the road had begun to straighten out and Ana risked a peep through the curtains, wrapping her arms around herself with pleasure to see the masses of people going about their midmorning business. Women chatted to one another, children clasped tightly on their hips or holding their hands. Men rolled carts laden with goods. She even spotted a few of the soldiers mingling with the general population, reminding her of Lazar. A fresh gust of grief swept through her mind.

It was always there, always ready to poison her day, but she chastised herself that she must not let Lazar’s shadow fall too fully across this day. This was one day she was keeping as shiny and free from darkness as she could, no matter how hard it would be to return to the palace at the end.

The voices grew louder and Ana again peeped between the silks to see that they were entering the narrow streets that she knew led down to the bazaar. She heard the Elim giving orders, clearing the crowd from around the karaks, and she imagined the fascinated stares of people curious to know who from the palace had come into their midst.

Suddenly Herezah was leaning into her karak. “Come, Ana,” she said conversationally, and then the Elim were helping Ana to alight. She noticed more Elim had trailed them in order that someone would remain with the transport until the women returned.

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Flanked once again by her red-robed guards, but this time with her arm encircled affectionately by Herezah’s, Ana stepped into the slow-moving stream of people and felt the lightness that had imbued her heart instantly turn to a weightlessness. She felt as though her sandals were no longer touching the ground.

“I can hardly breathe for excitement,” she whispered to her companion. “It’s been so long since I was amongst real people.”

Herezah gurgled with seductive laughter. She didn’t seem to take offense at Ana’s innocent gibe. “It always feels like that the first time,” she replied. “Enjoy yourself. I cannot promise when we might do this again, so make the very best of the short time we have.”

“Oh, I will, Valide…and thank you. Thank you for spoiling me. I’m not sure I deserve your faith.”

“I trust you, Ana,” Herezah soothed. “Just don’t get too seduced by freedom,” she cautioned and laughed again as they were swallowed up into the first dome of the great bazaar.

“AH,PEZ ,”THE GRAND Vizier said, smiling, but Pez noted not even a tiny flicker of warmth touched those cold, dark eyes.

“I was promised flowers,” he stated angrily.

“Oh, and you shall have them, Pez,” the Vizier said, his smile not faltering.

“And cherry juice.”

“Of course.”

Pez burped and shook himself free from the Elim’s hold.

“You may leave us,” Maliz said to the men in red. At the men’s hesitation, he added, a tinge of impatience in his voice, “Fret not, I shall not harm him.” Their grave expressions reminded Pez that the Elim had not forgotten Tariq’s behavior at the flogging of Spur Lazar, when he had dared to kick at the dwarf, who had, to all intents, accidentally rolled across the foot of the Vizier during one of his usual acrobatic maneuvers. Pez knew better, of course.

One of the Elim bowed and stepped forward. “Grand Vizier, we are never permitted to leave the dwarf unattended in the company of someone outside of the harem.”

“Is that so?” Maliz replied, sarcastically sneering.

The man nodded solemnly. “He has the full protection of the harem and the Zar, as you know. Forgive us, but we are not allowed to let him out of our sight.”

Pez began to sing, covering the smile he felt tugging at his mouth. Perhaps he would be safe after all. He suddenly worshipped the Elim for being so rigid in adhering to their rules.

“But he comes and goes as he chooses—or so I understand,” Maliz replied, working to hide his Page 87

irritation, Pez noted.

The man nodded again. “That is true, Grand Vizier. Pez is permitted complete freedom within the harem.

Beyond its boundaries he is always escorted—as is anyone from the harem.”

“I’m assured the Zar’s clown travels way beyond the boundaries of the palace and into the city!” Maliz grumbled, no longer able to disguise his discontent.

Now the man shrugged. “He is disobedient,” was the only reply he gave.

Pez began to dance, singing loudly at the top of his voice. It was his intention to frustrate the demon as fast as possible.

“Can you quiet him?” Maliz asked of the guards over the racket.

The Elim leaned forward and touched Pez gently on the shoulder. He didn’t fall silent but he stopped dancing and murmured softly to himself, picking his nose and wiping whatever he could find in it on the furniture. Stealing a glance at Maliz, he took pride in the disgust he now saw in the Grand Vizier’s expression. He farted for good measure just as the official opened his mouth to speak. It closed again.

“Is this the best we can do with him?” Maliz inquired of the Elim.

The more senior one of the guards gave a soft shrug of helplessness. “He is contrary, Grand Vizier. No one controls him.”

“Pez.” Maliz finally addressed him directly.

Pez stopped all activity and gave the man a beatific smile.

“Good. The Zar is very unhappy with you, Pez.”

Pez gave a sulky look and then bent down to grab the turned up toes of his ridiculous court shoes. Both Zars loved them for their comical effect and had many pairs made up in various fabrics. They were deliberately too large for his feet and Pez had even attached bells to this pair for added humor. He shook them now.

“Look at me, please.”

As Pez complied he felt the first tentative grope of magic pull at the protective shield of the Lore and saw recognition burn in the formerly dead-looking eyes of the Vizier. He had anticipated as much. But finding a shield meant nothing; it could be interpreted many ways. His insanity could be seen as that shield and he used his disguise to full effect now, screaming and screaming straight into the Grand Vizier’s horrified stare.

Pez’s screams were legendary and to be avoided at all cost. The Elim grabbed for him and covered his mouth. He continued to struggle despite their strength, as it disguised the shudder he felt at the insistent probing.

Desperate to break the link with the demon, Pez allowed his body to become peaceful as he began to count backward in Derranese, loudly, each number interspersed with spitting gobs of whatever he could muster directly at the Grand Vizier’s beautifully crafted darkwood table. He hadn’t been in the Vizier’s Page 88

chambers before, but Lazar had told him how vulgar and ostentatious the whole setup had been under Tariq. Well, there was no sign of Tariq here, Pez thought, spitting forcefully at the exquisite table, just one of several simple, priceless, and supremely elegant pieces that sparsely furnished the huge chamber.

“Stop that!” Maliz yelled, and Pez finally sensed that the probing magic’s link had been broken. He silently sighed his relief as he continued to count and spit.

“Grand Vizier. Pez must not be shouted at.”

“Can you not stop him behaving so?” Maliz demanded, impotent fury evident in his tone.

“We could remove him.”

Pez suddenly stopped counting, issuing a soft sound of remorse instead. Everyone’s glances were drawn helplessly to where he sat staring at the widening puddle around his satin trousers.

“Oh, Zarab save me!” Maliz exclaimed, both astonished and angered. “Get him out of here and have that filthy mess cleaned up.”

“Yes, Grand Vizier,” both Elim murmured, stifling their amusement.

“I want to stay here!” Pez screamed as the men bent to lift him. “I haven’t finished yet.”

“Get him out!” the Grand Vizier roared, his thunderous expression exclaiming that he was determined nothing further was going to be released from the dwarf ’s body into his chamber.

The men rushed Pez from the scene of his crime, dangling him between them in their haste to get him clear of the Grand Vizier’s wrath. After closing the door, they put him back onto his own short legs and gave rueful glances at the damp trousers he stood in.

“I’m uncomfortable,” he complained.

“That wasn’t wise, Pez,” one continued.

“I had plans to leave something bigger behind,” the dwarf said before gently shaking himself clear of his escorts’ hands and fleeing down the corridor. There was no time to even think about what had just occurred or the hideously precarious situation in which he now found himself. It was Ana who was in danger now and he’d already lost too much time with the Vizier.

There was only one person he could turn to. He needed to warn Lazar.

“LOOK HOW IT SPARKLES, Ana,” Herezah breathed into her ear. “Imagine yourself naked and wearing only that emerald.” Ana’s eyes widened in shock at the suggestion and Herezah laughed softly.

“Don’t be shy, Ana. I know a beautiful body hides beneath all of these robes. You’ve just got to be taught how to show it off to its best glory. Your first lesson: Nothing complements bare skin better than a precious jewel.”

Even veiled, Ana looked baffled. “Valide, I…”

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Herezah kept her voice firm. “You must accept. And you must learn to use your body in ways you’ve never dreamed to excite, entice, and above all, keep the Zar enamored with you.” Ana shook her head softly, gaze returning to the emerald. “It’s beautiful but gems have never fascinated me the way they do other women.”

Now Herezah clicked her tongue with exasperation. “It matters not whether you appreciate them, Ana.

This is about pleasing your Zar! Boaz loves emeralds. It is the stone of his birth. But I think tonight you should be dressed in blue, which will set off your golden hair beautifully. So perhaps a sapphire?” The jeweler nodded and disappeared to the back of his store, returning almost immediately to reverently polish and place an exquisite jewel pendant into Herezah’s waiting hands.

“This is perfect! You must please him by wearing it…perhaps dangling between your bare breasts, or across your naked hips…wherever he thinks it suits you best.” She laughed again but kept it light, almost conveying a feeling of fondness.

“I shall consider it,” Ana replied neutrally.

Herezah rounded on her, shooing the jeweler away. “You don’t understand anything, do you?” Ana shook her head, confused, frowning. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“I think you’re being deliberately obtuse, Ana.” Herezah was, again, careful to keep her voice friendly as if they were familiar companions, used to this sort of banter. “I have already warned you of what my son will require from you.” She laughed lightly behind her veil. “After all, you are from the harem.”

“Yes, you did, Valide. I don’t mean to be evasive, I’m just getting myself prepared—”

“But there is no more time, Ana,” Herezah said, reaching for the girl’s arm and squeezing it as a friend might. “He has decided.”

“Decided?” Ana repeated.

Herezah tinkled another laugh, her eyes sparkling at Ana’s innocence. “We’ll take this,” she called to the jeweler, who nodded and reached to take the large light-colored sapphire pendant. “Match up a gold chain with it and have it delivered to the palace for tonight. The Grand Master Eunuch will settle with you.”

The man bowed and disappeared behind the silk curtain that divided the shop from his back rooms.

Herezah watched the shock deepen in the girl’s eyes. She elegantly sipped from the raspberry-colored glass of apple cinnamon tea the jeweler had served her earlier. “What are you thinking, Ana?” she inquired after a long pause. “I don’t understand your hesitation.”

“I just didn’t imagine this would happen so soon, Valide.” Ana’s eyes were full of pleading now.

Herezah was privately amused that the girl hoped for her help. “I was barely thirteen when Joreb chose me.”

As Ana’s hand flew to her mouth, Herezah nodded reassuringly. “He was gentle the first time—I was Page 90

but a child.” She noticed Ana move to say something but quietly continued: “He took me five times that night. My virginity was well and truly paid to my master by the following morning.” She smiled at the horror reflected in the girl’s eyes, staring back at her. “He called for me six nights in a row and only left me on the seventh because he was tired from his hunting that day. Not a part of me didn’t ache. Not an inch of my body wasn’t bruised, bitten, scratched, pinched—all out of affection, of course. Not a single bit of me minded. I was the winner.”

“Thirteen,” Ana repeated.

Herezah shrugged, wondering if the girl understood now what might have shaped her, why the Valide had arrived in this position with such a hard attitude. “I learned fast—as you will. And you are nearly sixteen, Ana. A woman by anyone’s standards.”

“When, Valide?” Ana begged.

There was no point in lying. “Tonight.”

Ana gasped.

Herezah knew it was time to be matter-of-fact. “He announced it this morning to Salmeo. You have been chosen. You are to be”—she hesitated, trying not to let the cruel grin behind the veil touch her eyes, which were showing only sympathy—“prepared,” she finished.

“Prepared?”

“Bathed, oiled, smoothed. Every hair from your body must be waxed and plucked. Every hair on your head must be polished until it reflects the light of the moon. Your teeth must gleam, your breath must be sweetened, your nipples must be painted to excite the Zar. You will be given the varada leaf to chew to stimulate your own desires—it works faster than the smoke. It also widens your pupils to make you more alluring. You will be powdered and perfumed and finally you will be draped in a silken gauze, and then you will crawl to his bedside on your knees before opening yourself up to the Zar and doing whatever he asks of you.”

“How long have you known?” Ana asked, seemingly stunned.

“I was told just moments before we left. It was all the more reason to ensure you had a wonderful time in the bazaar—this is, after all, your last chance at freedom. I never had a day such as you have had today. But as I said earlier, this is my gift to you. So come on, let us go now and look for fabrics and a beautiful present that you might bring to your Zar this evening.” She paused deliberately, gave her tinkling laugh. “Actually, he needs no gift beyond your body, Ana. It will be enough, I’m sure.” OVER THE NEXT COUPLEof hours Ana was ushered from shop to shop. Herezah made all the purchases; Ana was barely more than an observer, unaware of the Valide’s insistence that every item must reflect Ana’s new status as First Chosen, incapable of responding to her queries on this fabric or that. The Valide chattered on, seemingly oblivious to the dread quiet at her side.

“Perhaps you may be Favorite by tomorrow morning,” Herezah whispered conspiratorially. “Joreb made me Favorite on that first night.”

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Ana was past tearfulness. Now she was simply fearful, and fright was turning to something hard and obstinate. As Herezah spoke by her side about glassware and beautiful silver, magnificent rich fabrics and the ideas for the design of her own porcelain, Ana stared at the wondrous roof of the bazaar. There, in its beautiful blue-and-white painted tiles, she found calm. From this distance the intricate pattern of flowers and birds appeared merely as a complex design, and in taking her gaze around the ceiling, Ana felt her mind escaping.

She didn’t even notice the icy sensation coursing through her body.

And then she heard the voice in her mind.Who is this? It sounded both hesitant to speak and yet terrified not to. She recognized it instantly.

It’s me,was all she could say, shocked at being able to communicate this.

Ana?

She could feel his relief washing through her own mind.How are we doing this ? she asked.

No idea. But it confirms that you are who I assumed.

I know I accepted it when we spoke—but it suddenly frightens me. Are you so sure this goatherd’s daughter is who you think she is?

Yes. Why else are we linked? How is it that we can now talk to each other simply using our minds?

I don’t know.

I am Iridor and you are Lyana. I have learned to accept it—now you must. When she didn’t reply, he filled the silence.Where are you? I hear a lot of noise.

In the bazaar with the Valide. I know where you are—you’re flying.

How do you know that?

I can hear the wind rushing by, she said wistfully.

Have you heard about Boaz and what he did this morning?

A moment ago. I can’t think straight.

Don’t be scared.

Why not? I can’t escape this time.

I’m working on it.

What do you mean?

He suddenly sounded evasive.Now that we can do this—we’ll talk again in the same manner soon.

Don’t go, Pez!

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I have to…er, Ana, forgive me, I am just joining someone—

Pez cut the link but not before she heard someone’s voice—a voice she had not thought she would ever hear again. Surely it couldn’t be? Was she imagining it because she was so distraught?

No. She had heard the man say “Hello, Pez” as clearly as if he were standing by her side.

“Well.” A new voice interrupted her reverie. “I think we’re done, Ana. You’re going to look stunning tonight, I promise.”

Disconcerted, Ana tried to refocus her gaze. The Valide’s sharp eyes regarded her intently from behind her dark veil.

“Are you feeling unwell?” Herezah inquired.

Ana felt the Valide touch her arm and realized she was shaking her shoulder. Her thoughts swiftly snapped back to the moment. “I think a ghost just passed by me,” she stammered, forcing out an old Percherese saying.

“Ooh.” Herezah shivered. “A ghost walking by signifies that death is beckoning.” Ana shook her head. “This one meant life.”

Herezah frowned, shaking her head. “We leave now. I hope you’ve enjoyed your excursion, Ana.

Though it is your last as a virgin, it need not to be your last time roaming from the palace. If you stick to your bargain, you can do this again sometime.”

“Thank you, Valide,” Ana replied politely, hardly listening to the woman, her thoughts already teasing at the problem of where Lazar might be. The thrill of imagining him alive had already passed and was rapidly being replaced with shaking anger. The man she loved had tricked her in the worst possible manner…and, just as devastating, her only true friend was in on the duplicity. Pez was visiting Lazar now.

She felt a sharp sting of betrayal. Lazar couldn’t possibly have deliberately set out to hurt her. And certainly not Pez, not after this morning’s conversation. But why? Why would Lazar fake his own death?

Why would her uncle admit to the crime? She knew there had to be reasonable explanations, but Ana could find none, returning with sorrow to the notion that this was an act of treachery against her.

Her shaking became visible.

“Zarab save us! What’s come over you, girl?” Herezah exclaimed.

And then Ana knew nothing more. She was not aware of slumping to the floor, her fall only barely broken by Herezah’s quick action. She was heedless of the people rushing around her, of a strong Elim guard lifting her easily and carrying her all the way back to the palace.

She only knew who she was again when she woke to find herself draped on her own bed, pungent-smelling salts erupting through the cloudy fog to bring her back from the darkness.

And she returned to her full senses, enraged.

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Eyes normally light in color were now darkened by news that hurt him to his soul. He worked hard to keep his expression neutral even as the fresh information was delivered, but his brow creased and then dipped, hooding his haunted face still further. His lips were pressed together as though determined to deny escape to any words that might betray their owner.

Finally Lazar let go of the breath he hadn’t realized he’d held so tightly in his chest. “Boaz said it this morning?” he repeated, demanding confirmation that he did not need.

“That is what I have discovered.”

“From whom? You were not there, I take it?”

“From a reliable witness.”

“Why are you being evasive?”

“To protect you.”

“From what?” Lazar sneered, slamming his hand down on the cottage’s scrubbed table.

Pez remained patient. “From information that can incriminate. Trust me, Lazar, you do not want to hear this.”

Lazar did but he didn’t have time to fret over Pez’s secrets right now. Ana’s life was about to change once again. “And she’s with Herezah, you say?”

“Apparently the Valide has taken her shopping.”

Lazar shook his head. “In all my years at the palace, Herezah has never once gone shopping. She has the sellers drag their goods up to the palace for a private showing.” Pez nodded. “And if she doesn’t like anything, she makes them keep repeating the process until she does.”

“That’s right. She enjoys their frustration. She can’t have changed her ways.”

“Well, perhaps because she’s getting Ana ready for her son…” Lazar scowled and Pez quickly added,

“And Ana did say that Herezah had made a bargain with her and this was the first part of their deal.” Lazar snorted. “And you believe it?”

“No,” Pez admitted.

“She’s up to something.”

“Lazar, whatever the Valide’s intentions might be with this trip into the city, they are negated by what Ana faces later.”

The former Spur stomped out of the cottage, grumbling under his breath that he didn’t need to be reminded of what Ana would face later. Pez caught up with him. “You’re walking freely now, Lazar; your Page 94

large stride has returned fully. Your stoop is gone, along with the sallow look that made me think it would be kinder to help you to an easy death. Anger is not helpful,” he counseled.

“It is to me. Don’t lecture me.”

The dwarf pulled a contrite expression. “I have to tell you something else. Something extraordinary.” Lazar turned his angry glare on his friend, as if denying his companion from giving any more surprises.

Pez continued anyway: “Ana spoke to me when I was flying. She was in the bazaar. That’s how I know she was shopping.”

“What do you mean?”

At Lazar’s question Pez looked exasperated. “Don’t be dim, Lazar. She spoke to me. We can talk across distance, using our minds…and our magics.” Lazar grimaced, his heart constricting still further.

The grief etched on his face said far more than words could.

Pez hesitated. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought to enlighten you.”

“Oh, I’m enlightened all right, Pez. According to you, she’s Lyana, Mother Goddess!” Lazar roared, no longer able to contain his fury. “But it still doesn’t save her a rutting at the end of Boaz’s newfound manhood, does it?”

The dwarf stared at Lazar, clearly shocked. But then his expression tightened, and he said quietly, “And can you blame him?”

“What?” Lazar felt a tide of fresh fury rise uncontrollably within him.

“Can you honestly deny that you harbor similar desires?”

Pez didn’t see it coming, but in his defense, neither did Lazar. He swung a strong backhander that connected perfectly with the dwarf ’s jaw, sending Pez to his back.

Moments later Lazar watched as his old friend blinked slowly, dully, as realization hit that he was staring up at the bright sky over Star Island. He was filled with remorse and concern as he bent over the little man, tenderly bathing his knotted features with a cool, damp linen.

“What happened?” Pez mumbled, and then moaned. “I’m seeing sparkles.”

“I hit you,” Lazar confessed, a deep sense of shame overriding his anger. “I had no right to,” he groaned.

“I deserved it,” Pez said, holding his jaw and not speaking very clearly. “Help me up.” Lazar gave an anguished sound. “No, Pez, don’t forgive me so easily. I deserved your criticism. My feelings toward Ana are inappropriate and you’ve seen through me, as did Herezah.” Pez managed a tiny shrug. “As I say, can you blame him?” he ground out.

“No.”

“Envy is a terrible thing,” Pez added. “I think my jaw’s broken.” Page 95

“I don’t know how to apologize enough.”

“I can fix it. The Lore has many skills and I think healing cracked bones is not beyond it. Even though your sickness was.”

Lazar hung his head. “I’m so ashamed, Pez. I pride myself on always being in control of myself and my actions.”

“The heart is a law unto itself, Lazar. You have no control over it.”

“Nevetheless, I—”

“Stop, please. I know you’re sorry—I can see it on your face, hear it in your voice. I, too, am sorry, for goading you so ruthlessly. So we’re both sorry and I can fix my jaw, although I refuse to mend your aching hand. Let it hurt for a while,” Pez jested gently, his tone now kindly. “Let’s get on with the important matter at hand.”

Lazar nodded, contrite. He rubbed the back of the hand that had connected with Pez’s large jaw. “What do you suggest?”

“Get to the temple. I need you in the city faster than we planned. Perhaps with Zafira we can think this through.”

“But Ana?”

Pez looked directly at Lazar. “Ana is not yours, Lazar. She belongs to the Zar. She is only a vessel for something far more important to all of us. And furthermore, she is sixteen. She is a woman and ready to face the hurdles of her sex. Harem women pleasure the Zar; that is his right. We must not do anything reckless to unsettle the balance of the palace, Lazar. We have far higher things at stake.”

“What about what Ana wants?”

“It doesn’t matter what Ana wants. You bought her as a slave. She is expendable in all of this. This is about destroying Maliz—that’s what we’re here for.” He coughed painfully.

Lazar’s expression grew stormy again. “That might be what you’re here for, Pez—or Iridor, whatever you prefer to be called these days—but I am not a slave of Lyana. I will not be manipulated. I accept that Ana has a role, one I purchased her for. That’s something I have to live with. But I don’t have to forget who I am and what I feel simply because some age-old crone demands it. You dance to Ellyana’s tune too readily, dwarf.”

Pez shook his head sadly. “You are fooling yourself, Lazar. You’re in this struggle up to your neck, as am I. We may not know why but your role will become clearer.”

“So be it,” Lazar said with resignation, and then his tone softened. “Again, forgive my assault. I will find a way to repay the debt I now feel I owe you.”

Pez sighed. “As you wish.”

“I shall see you in the city,” Lazar said as farewell.

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He watched the snow-white owl take off gingerly from the cliff edge. Then he returned to the hut to pack a small sack of items, none of which, save a small bottle of liquid, were important to him. He had to get himself off the island and back onto the mainland quickly. And he would need a disguise and a way to sneak into the palace. As he moved around, plotting and planning, he firmly kept his thoughts away from the final imprisonment—being Chosen—of the woman who owned his heart.

SALMEO HAD BEEN SUMMONEDto Herezah’s salon. Now seated, he was delighted at being served the bright red pomegranate tea by her own hand.

“Did your excursion go well, Valide?” he lisped as she settled herself back into a divan plumped with thickly feathered cushions.

“Oh, very well,” she answered, amusement in her voice. “Ana fainted.”

“At the news?”

Herezah smiled. “It was a slow buildup. She thought she had her emotions under control, but it was rather fascinating to watch her gradually disintegrating over our shopping expedition. Rather naive of her to think Boaz at seventeen isn’t going to want to bed her—or, indeed, a dozen women.”

“She’s a strange one. I think Ana is beyond the other girls.”

“What do you mean, Salmeo?” Herezah queried.

“Oh, it’s fanciful, Valide, I know, but it’s as if she knows something important the rest of us don’t. And that knowledge gives her the immense aloofness and courage she has demonstrated.”

“Not so courageous today,” Herezah remarked with a sneer. “But I take your point. She certainly doesn’t lack for spine. In fact, she doesn’t stop surprising me with her insight and forthright attitude.”

“Presumably that will be her undoing, Valide,” Salmeo said, daintily placing his teacup on the table between them. “It’s that sense of herself that will push her over the edge into taking risks.” Herezah nodded. “Precisely, and I’ll walk naked through the bazaar if I’m wrong that she doesn’t take that risk tonight.”

“She’ll take the bait, you think?”

“I have no doubt in my mind. You’re ready?”

“Completely. We’ll let her think she’s got away with it for a while.”

“Which will make her hunting down and ultimate capture all the more sweet.” Salmeo paused, considering. “Actually, my Valide, I think the Zar’s decision works in our favor.”

“It’s not like you to take so long,” Herezah teased. “Boaz did us a favor. His announcement forces not only her hand but it also makes her now answerable to him rather than to the harem.”

“Yes, his punishment rather than ours.”

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“And he will be worked up, I’m sure. I know Boaz and how high his passions can run. He is such an intense boy, really. Ana’s actions will provoke a violent response, I imagine.”

“I think we can count on it, Valide.”

ANA WAS LED TOthe magnificent domed building attached to the harem through a tiled walkway that housed the bathing chambers.

As all members of the harem were currently enjoying the boating picnic, Ana was the only odalisque present. Everyone else was a servant or attendant and each had been charged with the information that this girl had been formally chosen by the Zar.

Each new young woman to be called to the Zar’s bedroom to relinquish her maidenhood held special significance. But the First Chosen for a new Zar was traditionally symbolic of the success of the man’s rule and the prestige of his harem.

In this instance it was even more dramatic. This was a virgin Zar choosing his first virgin. Ana’s head attendant, Elza, was impressing upon the silent Ana the enormous responsibility she now carried.

“Everyone will be looking to you to make this go smoothly. You must please the Zar more than any who might follow in your footsteps. And you must remember, this is also his first time. You will be guiding each other. His pleasure is paramount. Yours is a gift from him should he so choose.”

“And if he chooses to hurt me?”

Elza did not hesitate. “That’s his wish,” she replied firmly as she slipped the robe off Ana’s naked shoulders.

Kett knelt before Ana, gently helping her to pull her feet from the tall wooden pattens that the girls wore into the bathing chamber to lift them away from the constant water that flowed across the marble.

“A soak first,” Elza said, guiding Ana into the vast pool. Ana had not yet experienced the full bathing process. It hadn’t been necessary until now for any of the girls to do much more than simple soaping and rinsing, although they had been learning about the long and tedious hours that they would spend in preparation each day for the Zar once he became sexually active.

Kett walked her into the pool and she noticed that, undressed, his body and face had lost the pudginess of childhood. His cheeks were lean and his big dark eyes regarded her with concern. He was naked save a for linen around his waist that protected his modesty.

“Relax, Miss Ana, the warmth will soothe,” he comforted.

Ana slid into the pool, allowing the water to cover her head. When she emerged, Kett was still standing chest deep watching her, and Elza had left the chamber.

She decided to be candid. “I feel very awkward about you seeing me naked.”

“I’ve seen you before in this state and it was my undoing,” he said gravely. “Please don’t be Page 98

embarrassed on my behalf. All that makes me a man has gone, Miss Ana.” She didn’t believe him. “No…um?” She struggled to find the right words.

He shook his shaved head. “No feelings at all. I’m told they got me early enough to take away the manly urges.”

She swam over and touched his hand beneath the fizzing waters.

He shrugged gently. “I have been rewarded by being made your servant.”

“My servant?”

“You have not been told? The Grand Master Eunuch Salmeo himself has appointed me to you.” Ana was instantly suspicious. “But why?”

“I gather it was originally intended as a special gift for today, but from what I have been hearing, it may be more permanent.”

Elza bustled back with pots of various descriptions. “No more time wasting now, Kett,” she chastised without feeling.

Kett nodded acknowledgment. “May I wash your hair for you?” he asked Ana.

“Thank you, Kett,” she murmured. “You look so strong,” she added, noticing his sculpted body as he helped her up and led her to a separate pool.

He gave a soft sigh. “I always wanted to be a warrior. The Elim have taught me that I am one, even though…” His voice trailed off.

Ana felt his pain and filled the awkward moment with light conversation. “So you’ve been training hard obviously?”

He began to lather her hair from behind. “Yes I have almost completed my Elim training. I will be given my full-time role soon. I hope it’s to protect you.”

She found a smile. “What do I need protection from?”

“Who knows? I shall do whatever is asked—I belong to the harem.”

“Just as I do,” she reassured him, hoping to alleviate the wistfulness he clearly couldn’t shake. “We are kindred spirits, Kett.”

Kett worked in silence for several minutes, carefully soaping Ana’s hair with a mix of suds and egg yolk to make her hair shine before rinsing it, then beginning again, each time massaging her scalp until it tingled.

“It’s a shame to waste all those egg whites,” she commented sarcastically.

He giggled, whispering, “When you’re older we use them to smear around your eyes to help with wrinkles, but for now I’m sure we can send them off to the Valide.” Page 99

They both shared a conspiratorial laugh; then Kett grew serious.

“Are you scared, Miss Ana?” he dared.

“Yes,” she replied candidly. “But I am like you. Others decide my fate for me.” She heard him pause before he replied. “It need not be that way,” he said, tipping a bucket of clean, cooler water over her head.

“What do you mean?”

He came around to face her, looking abashed. “Now we must wash your body,” Kett said, his eyes glancing away from hers.

Ana turned to see Elza approaching.

“Come, Odalisque Ana, Kett will now soap your body.”

Ana felt instantly coy. “Can I not do it, Elza?”

The senior attendant laughed, her bare breasts over the top of her loose pants wobbling with the mirth.

“You have to get used to the touch of a man, although Kett here is hardly that.” She laughed again, not unkindly. “You must also get used to this routine. If not Kett, then another of the youngest eunuchs will attend to your bathing.”

“Why not you?” Ana persisted.

“I am senior, Miss Ana,” Elza said archly. “I have more important roles.” Ana felt sorry for the woman. They were both slaves, both prisoners of the harem. The only thing that separated them was age and desirability in terms of the Zar’s needs, and yet Elza was left to take solace from the fact that her slaving duties were more important than Kett’s. She sighed. Status existed everywhere, even amongst the downtrodden.

Elza and Kett sat Ana down on a stool near a fountain of running water.

“Just let him do what he must,” Elza said. “Get used to it. He’s been practicing. He knows what to do for you.” She left them both, although Ana knew the slave woman would not go far, as her role was presumably to supervise.

Ana didn’t want to make trouble for Kett. She looked toward his downcast gaze and knew he felt as awkward about this as she did. Once again, neither of them had a choice.

“It’s not your fault, Kett,” she assured him. “I suppose we’d better get over the discomfort of our situation and get on with it.”

He looked up and she knew he fought his treacherous eyes and his gaze that moved unhappily toward her breasts. She liked Kett—had always somehow felt responsible for his sorrowful situation, even though she knew in her heart that her circumstances that night had been equally helpless.

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Ana reassured herself that Kett would get used to the sight of her body and she would get used to his ministrations. They just had to overcome this delicate beginning.

“Right,” she said brightly. “Do I need to do anything?”

“No, Miss Ana,” Kett said. He reached for a soft sea sponge and dipped it into a bucket filled with perfumed suds. He gently lifted Ana’s long, slim arm, proceeding to soap it from fingertip to shoulder.

She had to admit it felt good, and before long she relieved Kett’s embarrassment and her own by closing her eyes and losing herself as best she could in her own thoughts. It was the invigorating surprise of being doused with cool water that brought her out of her musings. She opened her eyes to see Elza in front of her.

“Come, Odalisque Ana, now for the massage,” the senior servant said.

Ana had never experienced the massage but she had heard plenty about it this past year in her training. It was unique to the Percherese and apparently one of the few true pleasures found in the harem.

“You must lie on the marble floor over here,” Elza said, pointing to a large raised area. Ana noticed holes in the marble, through which fizzed warm water. She couldn’t imagine how that happened and she wasn’t given time to consider the ingenuity of the men who had designed the system. Dutifully she lay down, no longer bothered by her nakedness in front of Kett, his black skin gleaming from his exertions and a contrast to the bright red loincloth of the Elim that hooked around his waist and saved her the sight of his wound.

“Kett has strong fingers,” Elza said. “He will make your body feel loose and pliant.” The water bubbling through the holes made the marble slippery and Kett was able to spin Ana into any position he needed. She laughed, delighted by the unexpected movement when he took her leg and pulled her around so he could work on her shoulders first.

“Behave,” Elza warned.

“I was told the women use this time to entertain one another, Elza,” Ana countered.

“This is different, Odalisque Ana. There is no one here but ourselves and this is no ordinary day of bathing,” the servant reminded her, her expression stern.

Ana fell silent, knowing it wasn’t worth the breath arguing the point with Elza. She watched the slave walk away as Kett dragged her into the middle of the marble. The water was hotter here; Ana sighed as the heat melted through her body and Kett’s fingers busily worked down her back.

“What did you mean earlier?” she said softly.

“Pardon, Miss Ana?”

“You suggested that others need not decide my fate.”

Kett didn’t answer immediately, although she felt his tell-tale pause as he massaged her. He resumed, his fingers working harder. “I spoke out of turn, Miss Ana,” he finally said.

“She’s not here, Kett. Tell me what you meant.” Ana could sense him checking for Elza’s whereabouts.

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“Please.”

He spun her around again to face away from him but this time knelt close to her head as he pretended to work on her neck and shoulders. He whispered, “I overheard Salmeo organizing for the bundle women to come up tonight. It’s a treat for the girls.”

“Another one? We are spoiled,” Ana commented tartly.

“I think he said the Valide wanted to add something to their exciting day on the water—something she can share with them.”

“Doesn’t sound like the Valide.”

He hissed softly to stop her saying anything more. “Be careful, Miss Ana.”

“Why? A Zar wants my body. They can hardly hurt me.”

“They can afterward,” he counseled.

Ana knew he was right. “Go on,” she urged.

“It’s just that I know one of the women. She can be bribed.” Both fell silent as the implications of this hung between them.

Ana broke the tension, her breathing suddenly shallow. “How well do you know her?”

“Not well. I’ve gotten to know her through my work for the harem. Salmeo uses me for errands and I come across her from time to time. I know she is corrupt. I know she can be bought.”

“What’s her name?”

“Sheffa. She usually brings the cheap shawls.”

“Can word be gotten to her?”

“Possibly, I’m not sure.”

Ana could hear the pain in his voice and she spun herself around now on the fizzing water fountain. They both looked for Elza before she spoke. “You did the right thing in telling me, Kett,” she assured him.

“Can you get word to her? Please, I’m begging you. Tell her I will give her something of immense value tonight if she will carry me out.”

Kett looked forlorn, terrified. “I wish I’d never mentioned—”

“But you did. And I haven’t forgotten that day on the terraces when you first shared the tale of the odalisque who escaped in the bundle woman’s wares, and I know you told me because you want me to escape.”

“I can’t bear the thought of you going to the Zar unwillingly,” he said.

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Ana sensed that he was skirting the truth of what he truly meant but she no longer cared. “Neither can I.

But escape is my risk alone and I’m prepared to take it. How can we contact her?”

“I can probably do it myself. I’m frightened, though, Miss Ana. It was wrong of me to put this thought into your mind, but no one understands better how it feels to be trapped. I can’t escape but perhaps you can.” He was babbling, and she could tell that Kett was torn between her safety and his desire to free her from the Zar’s claim.

“Please do it, Kett. But keep yourself safe. The danger must be mine alone.” Elza entered the bathing chamber and they both grew quiet. “I take over from here now, Miss Ana,” she said.

“What’s next?” Ana asked too brightly, covering their sudden hush in conversation.

Elza looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “You seem very alert.”

“That’s not a bad thing, is it? I found the waters refreshing,” Ana replied, feeling the excitement and tension of her small escape plan shaping.

“No, but the waters are meant to relax, not make you too jumpy.”

“I’m not jumpy, Elza.”

“Well, don’t try to convince me you’re excited,” the slave said, a hint of sarcasm icing her words.

Elza knew her too well. Ana attempted a rueful smile. “I just want to get it all over and done with, to be honest.”

“That’s fair enough, too, Miss Ana. I understand.” Elza returned the smile before continuing briskly:

“Next we have to remove your body hair.”

Ana had heard that highborn females and those who married above themselves strove to keep their bodies free of all hair save what flowed from their heads. Her stepmother had scoffed at the notion, claiming it was an idle pastime for idle women. No one Ana had ever met had the time or inclination to follow this practice.

“Now don’t look at me like that, Miss Ana. This is the way of the harem.”

“How is it done?”

“With paste,” the woman replied simply. “Come and lie here on these warmed towels.” Ana did as she was told, watching, somewhat fascinated, as Elza lifted the lid on one of her many pots before beginning to smear the pungent paste onto Ana’s shins.

“Quicklime and orpiment—crystals of arsenic,” she explained as she worked deftly with her ivory spatula. As she finished attending to the second leg with the paste, she reached for a small gray implement.

“What’s that?” Ana said, sitting up.

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“A mussel shell that’s been sharpened. Watch,” Elza replied as she used the fine edge of the shell like a razor to lift away the paste and with it the fine golden hair on Ana’s legs. She repeated the process on Ana’s arms, her underarms, and then removed the modesty sheet covering her middle. “Now for the important bit,” she said, grinning, “so our young stallion can see you in all your glory.” Lightly, she slapped Ana’s thigh.

Ana groaned. “I don’t—”

“Don’t start,” Elza warned. “I told you this is the important part. You’ll need to raise your legs, girl, and open those knees.”

Ana balled her fists with a mixture of anger and resentment as the slave woman forced her knees apart and she began to feel the acidic paste stinging between her legs. She refused to voice her rage by crying out, although the desire to do so was great.

“We cannot leave this on for too long or the arsenic will corrode your flesh,” Elza said, not unkindly but too matter-of-fact to sound mindful of the younger woman’s discomfort.

“It’s burning me now.”

“It will,” Elza said coolly, before warning, “I must use it on all your orifices, Miss Ana—nose, ears—”

“Say no more,” Ana warned, cutting off what Elza was going to list next and feeling sickened as the slave turned her over and pushed her legs apart once again.

“On your knees, girl, make it easier for me.”

Ana gave in to her rising tide of emotion, felt her eyes water with the humiliation of this activity, and Kett, standing nearby, hung his head hung with his own sense of shame on her behalf. She thought of her father and his simple life, simple needs. She thought of her brother and sisters and how she would give anything to be living with them again, and she thought of the statue of Lyana whom Pez believed Ana now represented. And then she considered this pampered prisoner life she was now being committed to and her mind snapped itself into a stony decision. Escape, be it out of Percheron or by death, was her only option. She would take her chance tonight, no matter what happened.

When Elza was satisfied, after an embarrassingly long and close scrutiny, that Ana was free of all superfluous hair, she pulled a small rough burlap bag on over each hand.

“Now what?” Ana asked testily.

“I must polish your body. Turn over and be quiet, child.”

Elza began to rub every inch of her charge with the rough bags whilst Kett scrubbed the soles of Ana’s feet with rasps. Ana no longer found any of it diverting. The humiliation she still felt fired her imagination further, and she reveled in the notion that she could cheat Salmeo and Herezah. She didn’t enjoy the idea of snubbing Boaz, who had in all truth been nothing but a friend to her, but even that relationship had this dark side to it, where she was expected to give her body for his use.

In her frustration she remembered hearing Lazar’s voice coming through Pez, and it made her feel hot where she shouldn’t and this angered her even more. How could they have lied to her, allowed her to Page 104

grieve and feel guilty as she had done the past year?

She flicked her hair angrily. “Are we finished?”

Elza had finished, apparently, because she turned to Kett, ignoring Ana. “Bathe her again before she is oiled.”

Ana grimaced but said nothing, obeying the woman who was in charge of her preparation. After another dip in the heated waters, Kett smoothed warmed perfumed oil from her neck to the tips of her toes, rubbing it in gently. It was a marvelous sensation, and beneath the strong-fingered ministrations of Kett, Ana genuinely did feel every inch of herself relax, for perhaps the first time since entering the palace.

Warmed pouches of wheat were placed on her eyelids whilst Kett finished smoothing the oil into the front of her body and Ana felt herself drifting into a light doze.

“Almost ready?” a familiar voice lisped. Ana felt her momentarty sense of peacefulness evaporate as her stomach clenched.

“Just her hair to be dried, brushed, and dressed,” Elza said softly.

“Kett, you’ve done well,” said the voice. “She looks calm—just how we need her.” Kett did not respond and Ana felt frozen to the marble-surfaced table on which she lay, naked and vulnerable.

“Ana,” Salmeo said firmly. “You are almost ready in your preparations.” He removed the wheat bags and she managed to muster a small amount of defiance to load into her stare. “Just hair and clothes to go,” he continued, hardly noticing her glower but looking up and down her body, making soft noises of appreciation.

“I don’t need your help to get dressed, Grand Master Salmeo,” she replied, aware that her words were impertinent but carefully tempering her voice.

He stroked her belly, and his gap-toothed smile was prompted by her flinch. “No, but I am required to perform one final act upon you before I hand you over to our Zar for his pleasure.” She sat up, fearful, and Elza made a hushing sound. “Now, Miss Ana, this is the usual practice, the way of the harem.”

“Don’t touch me,” she warned Salmeo.

He sighed theatrically. “Pity. I thought we could make this easy on you, Ana.” He clapped and four grave-looking Elim entered. “Do I need to ask these men to assist?” He held his sharp-pointed fingernail in the air, freshly painted red for the occasion. “Make a decision, Ana. It can be a crowd or it can be intimate—just the two of us…again.”

She knew she had lost her small fight and nodded, fighting back the tears at her hopeless rebellion.

A signal from Salmeo dismissed the Elim. Ana stole a desperate glance at a frightened-looking Kett and nodded, begging him to understand the intent of her message. Slowly he nodded back.

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“Go about your other business, Kett. I’ve left a list of errands—they require you to go to the bazaar.” Kett bowed and hurried away.

Ana could hardly dare to believe that he had been ordered to go precisely where she wanted him to visit. “Can Elza stay?” she begged Salmeo.

“Leave us, woman,” Salmeo said cruelly in answer. “She cannot save you this, Ana. Now, where is the emollient?” He directed his question at the male slave who dutifully held out a pot of the paste. Ana recognized him from her first night in the palace, the night she had taken her Test of Virtue. Elza, no longer permitted to stay, patted Ana on the leg and left her to Salmeo. The male slave followed.

Ana and Salmeo were alone. She closed her eyes to shut him out.

“As I told you once before, Ana, you can make this easy, or if you fight me, you can make it hurt.”

“Just do it!” she growled, tears flowing freely now, even through her tightly clenched eyelids.

She missed his lascivious smile as he first caressed her between the legs then plunged his fingers into her body once again, taking his time, massaging her so she would open more willingly. He moved his fingers into and out of her, lingering, knowing just where to touch to win an uncontrolled gasp from her.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?” he said. “Don’t clench against my fingers, Ana. Relax yourself. It’s good practice for Zar Boaz.”

She refused to say anything, hating herself for responding physically. Although his touch made bile rise to her throat, it seemed the effect it had on her traitorous body was the opposite. She fought her instinct to move with the soft throb his pudgy fingers had won from her.

“Now, Ana,” he said, his voice thick with his own lust, “I can see you’ll be very responsive to our Zar.

Right here,” he said, teasing and rubbing harder, “is where he needs to touch you to make you slippery and ready for him. If he doesn’t do it, do it to yourself, girl, or what he does do will hurt you badly. He will have little idea of this, I’m guessing; he’ll be all clumsy thrusts and eagerness, I’m sure, not precise and soft…and knowledgeable like Salmeo,” he lisped in a lover’s voice. He tantalizied her further with his oiled fingers until she groaned, confused by her conflicting emotions. She tried to push his hand away but he slapped her hard.

“Don’t, Ana. This is my time with you and I’m giving you a very good lesson. Without my advice it will go badly for you tonight. Remember what I’ve said, what I’ve shown you today.” Ana felt her whole body trembling, privately begging him to finish what he’d begun, but still she resisted the call of his insistent fingers.

Suddenly he stopped and she all but shrieked, not sure whether it was from disappointment or relief.

“No finishing for you, Ana. We want you swollen and eager like this. You must remember this feeling.

This is the point you must reach tonight before he enters you and then you will be ready and you will satisfy him because your own urges will be in concert with his. Oh, and do not try to take your own pleasures either, my girl.” He ignored her soft panting. “The Valide will give you strict counsel before you are led into the Zar’s chambers but heed my own warning: You are there purely to satisfy Zar Boaz, not the other way around. You will do everything he requests, perform any act he requires. Do you understand?”

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She nodded bleakly, hating the unsated feeling that her body was experiencing as it slid from the delicate ecstasy the eunuch had so cunningly achieved. Salmeo’s little finger slipped back into her and she gasped again.

“Relax, Ana,” he said, and she saw his smile this time as his tongue flicked out to moisten his lips. “Now to the true purpose of my visit.”

And Salmeo put his stained red nail to its ugly purpose as Ana arched her back and cried out her pain and her resentment.

She bled, proving once again that Lazar had delivered the perfect prize to the harem.

12

Pez’s plans to see Zafira had unraveled. He had not been able to find her in the morning as he’d intended and now it was getting late in the day after his run-in with Lazar. He had tried to find Ana but had learned through one of the Elim that she was being prepared for the Zar. He made use of the quiet to wield the Lore to help mend the crack that Lazar’s fist had inflicted on his jaw, but it didn’t do much to lessen the pain. That would be with him until it fully healed.

He decided that flying to the temple was just too risky—he had been flying too much lately, and a snowy-white owl, if spotted, would be considered a prize acquisition for a wily hunter. Instead he slipped away from the palace in the late afternoon and took a stroll down to the temple. As always when passing through the grand bazaar, Pez got lost in his own thoughts. He loved this bustling, thriving city within the city, but because there were so many people around him, and Pez had allowed his concentration to lapse, he did not notice the figure that followed him down the hill from the palace, blending into the moving mass of humanity.

Pez was instantly recognizable to most in the bazaar, but unless he was actually performing for them, they tended to leave him to himself. Frankly, many were scared of the contrary dwarf. Pez did nothing to alleviate this vague sense of disquiet in passersby, keeping up a mindless stream of gibberish interspersed with humming. It took little effort on his part and allowed him to drift in his thoughts until he arrived at the temple, where he did find Zafira, laying out some sea daisies before the statue of Lyana.

He cartwheeled around the temple, inwardly begging the Goddess to forgive him his silly antics in her place of quiet worship, knowing in his heart she would likely find it amusing.

“Ah, Pez, I wondered when I’d see you.”

“I want some fruit,” he called aggressively, rubbing his jaw gingerly from the pain of talking. He grabbed her arm, listing all the names of the fruits he loved, and dragged her into the far corner, checking surreptitiously that there were no other people in the temple.

“I came earlier,” he whispered.

As usual, Zafira seemed to take his erratic behavior—even when they were alone—in her stride. “I had things to do.”

“Well, I have more important things for you to do. I told you, I need some fruit!” Pez couldn’t hide his worry from her.

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“Oh?”

“Take me to your kitchen, flitchen, gitchen, ditchen.”

Zafira beckoned. “Come, Pez, I have some fruit upstairs,” she said, openly playing along. Then whispered: “Let us take a final cup of quishtar together.”

“My face hurts,” he mumbled.

But she had turned away. He followed her now in silence, dragging his knuckles on the ground as he had seen the monkeys in the zoo move, slowly ascending the stairs.

Once upstairs, he moved to the window, staring out wistfully.

“We are alone,” she confirmed. Pez knew she sensed his anxiety, was trying to assure him that he could drop his act.

He didn’t turn from the window but spoke softly. “You must leave Percheron today…now.” She smiled gently. “Leave?”

“It’s time,” he said, more kindly. He glanced around, ensuring that no one else could possibly eavesdrop, and as an extra measure reached out with the Lore. He felt nothing. “I know who Maliz is.” Zafira took her time answering. Fear was etched clearly on her face. “Already?” He nodded, shouted out the names of more fruit in a demanding voice this time before dropping almost to a whisper again. “It can be no one else. He sensed my presence at the palace and knows Lyana will be close, but then you already know who she is.” He didn’t mean for it to sound quite like the accusation it did. “I want pomegranates!” he yelled, and then fell quiet, staring out from her window at Beloch as Zafira maintained her own dread silence whilst she brewed quishtar.

He tested his surroundings once again with the Lore and finally permitted himself to feel safe. “Is it my imagination or does Beloch have cracks in his stone that were not there before?” Zafira joined him at the small window, handing him a steaming bowl of quishtar. “I’ve never seen that before and I look at Beloch every day. How odd.”

“His brother’s too far away for me to note if he’s cracking, too,” Pez said, wincing as he took a sip of the hot liquid that sent a fresh scream of pain through his jaw.

“They are crumbling like us,” she said sadly.

“We’ve never been stronger, Zafira. We have to believe that.”

“Who is it?” she asked, an edge in her voice.

“Can you not guess?” Pez didn’t mean to be mischievous. He wanted to see if the clues had been strong enough for Zafira to work out.

She frowned and sipped her brew. “I obviously know him for you to suggest I guess.” Page 108

He nodded gravely and she held his stare.

She puzzled at it for a few moments before saying: “The Vizier?” Pez closed his eyes momentarily in silent despair. Maliz had been under their noses for perhaps a year and they hadn’t noticed. Yet the clues had been there—Zafira’s guess confirmed it.

“Am I right?” She sounded incredulous.

He nodded somberly. “I believe Maliz has taken over Tariq, yes.” She turned away from the window, distracted but not disbelieving him. “How can it be? How did we miss it?” she hissed.

Pez had had longer to get used to the notion, longer to temper his frustration. He needed to reassure her.

“It is the way he works, Zafira. We are not meant to know. That’s his disguise, but it works in our favor, too. He doesn’t know who we are either.”

“But the changes—they’re so obvious,” she countered, angry as she put her bowl down. “We should have been more focused. We should have been looking for him.”

“And we would not have arrived at this conclusion any earlier, I’m sure of it.”

“What makes you sure of his identity?”

“Something Lazar said triggered the thought and then it was so obvious I’ve hated myself since,” he said, touching his jaw.

“Ana!” Zafia exclaimed, clutching a hand to her chest. Just as suddenly, she glanced at Pez, awareness of what she’d accidentally let slip in her eyes.

Pez nodded. “You could have told me what you suspected and not left me to work it out for myself,” he admonished softly.

“Ellyana insisted we say nothing to anyone about Ana.”

Pez frowned. So Ellyana had deliberately kept them in the dark, blundering around, not trusting anyone but themselves. He forced himself to move on. “Well, Lazar and I agree that Ana is safer at the palace than anywhere else. She has certain protections that the harem gives her. Maliz has little access to her physically.”

Zafira sneered. “Protection of sorts. If Maliz suspects who Ana is, he would already be making moves to destroy her.”

“Well, he obviously doesn’t suspect yet, but we have to be very careful. That’s why I think you should leave the temple, leave Percheron.”

“What prompted this? Your discovering his identity?”

“Everything! Tariq, Lazar deciding to return to the city, which will reveal you as a liar. And, I discovered Page 109

that Ana’s been formally chosen by Boaz. She will be presented tonight. There’s so much to discuss but no time.”

The priestess did not seem perturbed by any of this news. “Does Ana know about her role in all of this?”

“Yes. I spoke to her. She accepts it.”

“She has known all along. She just had to find the truth deep within. She was drawn to Lyana’s statue, the temple; she knew.”

Pez sighed, frustrated. “I wish I knew what happens next. I hate all this waiting.”

“None of us ever knows, Pez. That’s how it always is. We fight when required.”

“Fight? How?” He aired his thoughts aloud only through frustration. Pez knew Zafira had no answers.

She shook her head helplessly. “I really don’t know. That’s why I won’t leave.”

“You have to leave,” he insisted. “You are in danger here.”

“More danger than you or Ana?” Pez remained silent and she continued. “Don’t be naive, Pez. I felt the danger before you did. You may recall our conversation here thirteen moons ago or so when I mentioned that I felt I was part of something but didn’t know what. I was frightened, you may also remember.”

“I do.”

“Well, I’m still frightened, but now I know what I’m part of and I won’t run from it. Lazar’s return is the least of my worries. This is my calling. This is why I’m here. I just wish I wasn’t so old and useless to her cause, but still Lyana has chosen me as she has chosen you and Ana.”

“For what?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps I’ve already played my part. Perhaps in having conversations with you and Lazar on the evening of the choosing, and then Ana that same night, my role is already done. The temple is where we have all met. It might be that I bind us through the temple, which is the focus of Lyana in Percheron—all that is left of her.”

“Not all,” Pez countered. “The stone creatures echo her rule.”

“What use are they to her now?” she asked, hopelessness in her voice.

“Who knows? When we were moving Lazar from the temple on the day of his flogging to Star Island for secrecy, Ellyana made us row her up to Beloch so she could touch him—perhaps we should read something into that gesture?”

“Bah, that was out of respect.”

“No, Zafira. I paid attention. She spoke to him. It was a chant or a prayer or maybe just words of encouragement. I couldn’t hear what she said but I understood its intent. She was communicating with the giant.”

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The priestess appeared skeptical. “What’s your point?”

Pez shook his head ruefully. “I have no point. I feel like I’m plowing through a swamp in my thoughts. I have only seemingly meaningless observations to offer.”

“You think the stone creatures of Percheron are somehow involved in our struggle?” Zafira persisted incredulously.

He knew it sounded ridiculous. “As you say, none of us knows much at all. We fight when required.” The thought of the giant being somehow alive lingered between them, though, and they both glanced again at the impressive crack down his near side.

“You don’t think he’s crumbling, do you?” she said flatly. “You have a different idea of what’s occurring here.” It sounded like an accusation.

Pez looked at her and his dark eyes gleamed. He shrugged. “He could be emerging.” Zafira laughed, startled. “Well, for all the fear you’ve brought with you today, Pez, I’m pleased you haven’t lost your whimsical style. A giant emerging from stone?”

“He was entrapped in stone. He was real once.”

“We’re talking centuries and centuries ago. You think he lives?” Pez grinned and there was mischief in it. “I don’t know, I’m simply airing random thoughts.”

“There’s nothing random about you, Pez. We should heed your words.” She looked again at Beloch.

“Why now?”

Pez became serious again. “Ana said something intriguing. She mentioned that this time, this battle, it would be different. I don’t know what she means by that—I don’t even know ifshe does, but she seemed determined that the struggle would be different.”

“And you think the difference could be Beloch and Ezram?”

“Zafira, my mind is wandering everywhere,” he admitted wearily. “Yesterday I was convinced it was something else, today I’m thinking it’s the stone creatures.”

“The stone creatures? All of them? Crendel, Darso?”

He nodded. “If the giants, why not the others?”

The priestess shook her head, disbelieving. “Who did you imagine it was yesterday?” Pez hesitated. “I don’t know if I should share my thoughts, Zafira. You don’t share what you know.” He could see that the accusation hit home by the hurt expression that darkened her face. “No more secrets between us, Pez, I promise.”

He regarded her for a long time, decided she meant it. “I thought it was Lazar.” Page 111

“Why?”

“Because I know he’s not random either. He is involved for a reason. Ellyana’s loyalty to him suggests that. She wanted him to live but she wanted no one to know the fact. She has been waiting for something…something to occur or some secret signal to be given.” He shook his head. “I hate all this guessing.”

“Well, if it’s any consolation, although I can’t confirm if he’s the difference, I do know Lazar is involved.”

Pez swung around and faced her expectantly, annoyed by her continuing secrets.

She spread her hands, palms up. “Ellyana admits she doesn’t know what his part in this cycle is, but she did tell me that he is involved and will play a critical role. She said, as we were fighting for his life, that Lazar was a new player in the game of gods. That this time it was to be different.”

“That’s how Ana feels but she didn’t pinpoint Lazar. How could she? She thinks he’s dead!”

“I promise that’s as much as I know,” Zafira soothed. “I can’t tell you if he makes the difference. Ellyana was determined to save his life. Although I think there were moments there when she, too, felt we had lost him.”

“Why the secrecy, though? Why so much pain for those who care for Lazar?”

“Secrets can protect. I have to presume that she is deliberately keeping Ana and Lazar apart, deliberately keeping him away from the palace. Jumo’s pain cannot be helped. And now that you’ve discovered the Vizier for who he truly is, I can only say she was right in doing so. If all of Lyana’s warriors were instantly recognizable and in one spot, it would give Ana away immediately.”

“Well, it won’t last, Zafira. As I said, Lazar’s returning to the city.”

“Why? What does he hope to accomplish?”

“Anything’s better than wasting away on Star Island. How long did you think you could keep that man trapped there?”

She pursed her lips. “Not much longer. That’s why I wasn’t here when you came earlier.” Pez nodded, slowly understanding. “Ellyana?”

“She needs to know his condition. Perhaps she suspected he was ready to make his move.”

“And you went to meet her.”

“No,” she said, sitting down heavily. “I go to a particular spot and tie a message to a homing pigeon. I don’t know where it goes, but this morning’s message was that I didn’t think Lazar could be contained for much longer.”

Pez grimaced at the secrecy, at Ellyana’s manipulative ways. “He’ll be back in Percheron tonight.” Page 112

“What is he going to do?”

“Present himself to Boaz, as far as I know. Lazar has nothing to hide. But blame will be accorded to you, when they realize you lied. That’s why I want you to go.” She began to shake her head but Pez persisted. “You are more use to Lyana alive, Zafira. The Zar will not spare you once he knows you lied to him—and that’s how Lazar will have to tell it. And let’s be truthful here, he had no hand in the decisions and terrible manipulations anyway.” Zafira hesitated, biting her lip.

Pez pressed harder. “You can’t help us if you’re dead.”

She nodded, agreeing. “Where shall I go?”

“Anywhere but here. Go to Z’alotny—to the burial ground of the priestesses.” She looked at him ruefully. “Appropriate—at least when the Zar finds and executes me I’ll be in the right spot.”

He ignored her comment. “It’s safe, private, no one goes there. Give me two days and then I shall either come to you or get word to you and we’ll work out what to do from there. But you have to leave here now.”

She nodded. “I shall go.”

“Make haste, Zafira. I don’t trust anyone at the palace.”

“I shall be gone within the hour.”

He reached around her tiny figure and hugged her. “Go sooner if you can.” MALIZ TWIRLED THE STEMof a goblet of pale wine between Tariq’s thumb and forefinger as he considered what he’d just heard. “You’re quite sure.”

The man nodded.

“And he didn’t stay very long, you say.”

Now the man shook his head.

“Did he bow in the temple to Lyana?”

“No, Grand Vizier. I watched carefully. He did no such thing. He arrived doing acrobatics, and continued through the temple. There was no respect for the place he was in. He spoke briefly to the priestess—well, screamed to tell the truth—about wanting some fruit and she seemed familiar with him—she acted kindly toward him. He dragged her to the back of the temple and I could hear him still yelling about fruit and listing all of their names. Finally, she took him upstairs to give him some. I could hear him demanding a pomegranate. That’s when I left, for fear of being seen. I waited and he came out Page 113

not long afterward clutching an orange. He kept smelling the orange—”

“Yes, yes, I understand. He didn’t touch the sculpture of Lyana?” the Grand Vizier persisted, determined to connect Pez with the Goddess.

“He paid her no heed whatsoever,” the man confirmed, bowing. “He was as annoying and silly as he usually is.”

“Keep shadowing the dwarf whenever he leaves the palace. I will pay you well.” He tossed a small pouch at the man’s feet. It landed with a solid thump.

“Thank you, Grand Vizier.”

“I pay for your secrecy, too, Elaz. Don’t speak out of turn to anyone or I shall close your lips forever.” The man nodded. Maliz waved him away and considered what he had discovered. There was no proof.

The dwarf behaved true to form. Perhaps the priestess simply took pity on the idiot, someone the dwarf, in his delusions, considered a friend. But why go to the temple? The coincidence of the temple being the sacred place of Lyana was irresistible to Maliz. He would have to learn more.

He would begin with the priestess.

13

Ana had never looked more stunning. Even she was surprised by the solemn yet dazzling person staring back at her from the glass.

“He will adore you,” Elza whispered, praying to Zarab that the girl would put behind her the episode with the Grand Master Eunuch that had left her trembling, bleeding, and puffy-eyed from weeping. When she had tried to comfort the young woman, Ana had exclaimed that she was crying not from grief, but from anger.

“I don’t care,” Ana replied stiffly, her rouged lips making her scowl seem alluring rather than how she intended it to be.

“Miss Ana, please. Let this go well for you. To be First Chosen is one of the highest prizes. Look how the harem honors you with its finest jewels. I hear the Valide herself chose and bought them for you. The Grand Master Eunuch put them around your neck himself to honor you.” Ana’s voice was waspish when it came. “For your sake alone, Elza, I am not ripping these jewels from my neck and wrists and ankles.”

The slave gasped. “They are worth more than ten of me, child.”

“And I hate them. I don’t want them.”

“What do you want, Miss Ana?”

“Freedom. Leave me, Elza.”

“I cannot. I have promised to escort you into the divan suite. Grand Master Salmeo says the other girls Page 114

must see you in all your finery before you are taken to the Zar’s chambers.”

“So he can make the other girls jealous, so they will hate me?” Elza shrugged, embarrassed. “I must do as I’m told, Miss Ana.”

“Let us go now, then, for I cannot stand the sight of myself a moment longer. I am like the jewels—pretty but dead.”

Elza shook her head, worried, but gestured for Ana to follow her.

THE GRAND VIZIER ARRIVEDat the Sea Temple as the sun was dipping low behind the statue of Ezram. The giant looked to be framed by a halo of fire as the sky had blistered to a burning orange as if in final salutation to the day. Its farewell cast a bright glow onto the waters, making the bay appear like a cauldron of molten gold, but the Vizier did not appreciate Percheron’s theater of natural beauty. Maliz was entirely distracted, grimacing at being so close to the worshipping place of Lyana. His revulsion only intensified when he stepped into the temple’s cool shadows and saw the sculpture of the woman he reviled.

Lyana looked back at him, her expression as hard and unyielding as the stone from which she was formed. Maliz felt his bile rise at being in her presence. As he approached Lyana he could no longer control his repulsion and he spat at her. His spittle slid down her chin to land on her left breast, and whether it was a trick of the eye or simply the way the slit of dying golden sunlight made a last effort to light her, the liquid seemed to stain the pale stone.

Maliz sneered. “I will destroy you again and again, Lyana,” he said softly, cruelly. “The faithful will never worship a woman.”

He was disturbed by the arrival of a tiny person, an old priestess who had descended the stairs with a small sack. At first she covered her surprise at his presence with a quick smile—the sort she kept for someone come to pay quiet homage, he guessed, but Maliz noticed how the smile died fast on her wrinkled face. She tried to disguise her alarm but he saw it clearly.

“Grand Vizier Tariq?” she asked, overbrightly, he thought. “What a surprise. How can I help you?”

“Perhaps you can,” he replied smoothly. “I am looking for Pez.” She frowned. “The Zar’s buffoon?”

“That’s the only Pez I know of in Percheron,” Maliz said drily.

The priestess shook her head. “Pez is not here, Grand Vizier. I’m sorry your journey has been wasted.”

“He has been, though, hasn’t he, Priestess?”

To her credit, Zafira didn’t so much as blink at his trap. “Earlier today, yes. Silly fellow was looking for fruit, of all things. He can be quite contrary—as I’m sure you must know—but I feel sorry for him.” He noticed how she wrung the corners of the sack ends in her hands. Another clue. The priestess was nervous.

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“I’m sorry, you know me but I don’t have your name?”

“I am Zafira.” She put the sack down and pushed her hands into the pockets of her aquamarine robes to appear relaxed. He thought it was more likely an attempt to steady them.

He pressed on, keeping his voice friendly. “So Pez visits regularly, Zafira?”

“I wouldn’t say regularly,” she replied, smiling tensely. “He finds kindness here, Grand Vizier. He calls whenever his odd mood swings bring him; I never have any warning before he arrives. If I can help him to calm, I usually do. Sometimes all the troubled soul needs is some time.”

“Does he communicate with you?”

She gave an expression of disdain. “As well as he communicates with anyone. He speaks gibberish most of the time.” Now she looked quizzical. “I’m sure I’m not telling you anything you don’t already know, Grand Vizier, as you are around him in the palace and see him much more than I.”

“I have very little to do with him.”

“I find myself in the same position. Pez is welcome here, as anyone is welcome. No one is turned away.

But his trips are rare, and although he did stop by today in a fractious mood that was soothed with an orange, he’s not here at present. Now, if you’ve finished with your questions, I’m actually in a hurry.” She bent to pick up the sack again.

“Are you going somewhere, Zafira?” As Maliz stepped forward, the priestess shrank back. It was his best clue yet. She had no reason to be fearful of him and yet it was obvious she was entirely disturbed by his presence. “Do not be scared of me.”

“I’m not,” she said too quickly.

“Your voice shakes. Is something wrong?” He took another step toward her.

She retreated again and now he was sure. “No. You just surprised me and I have to be somewhere.”

“Where?”

The priestess made a poor attempt at indigntion. “Some-where private, sir.”

“Away from here.”

“Yes.”

“Why the hurry?”

“I’m late.”

“Can I escort you there?”

“No, Grand Vizier. I’m capable of finding my own way. Frankly, I’m surprised that you can be bothered with one of Lyana’s servants.”

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Her words gave Maliz the opening he needed.

“What makes you think I would make such a distinction?” He could see the fear taking hold of her now, see it in her startled eyes. There was only one reason his question would have caused such fear. She must know that inside Tariq’s body walked a demon.

He laughed aloud, deep and menacing. He had found one of Lyana’s disciples. It was a start.

The battle had begun.

ANA ENTERED THE DIVANsuite to the sounds of rapturous welcome as the other odalisques rushed to touch her gown, her precious jewels, her polished skin that was dusted with a powder that made it glow, and her shining golden hair. She was dressed in a shimmering pale blue outfit that was little more than gauze, just as Herezah had envisaged. It was edged with silver and dusted with diamond glitter, so that her every movement, however slight, made her entire body sparkle. Her hair was worked up in a delicately wrought silver clasp, studded with diamonds, and after Salmeo had finished with her, he had ordered further piercings for her ears. These were now hung with diamond drops and sapphires. Her nose had also been pierced twice and the curiously slight injuries—for all that pain—were now covered by diamond studs. Ana took grim amusement in the thought that had this been the middle of the day and not early evening, no one would have been able to look at her for fear of being blinded by her dazzling presence.

Ana knew that the girls would need a few moments to express their wonder, but the sounds of appreciation continued to escalate rather than lessen and so she begged them to stop. She did not enjoy this celebrity and her mind was again filled with the notion of escape. Ana knew the risk was huge; knew it was going against the promises she had made to Lazar, to Pez, even to the Valide. To fail in her bid this time would mean death, but the prize for success would be freedom, and after her meeting with Salmeo earlier, death did not frighten her. If she made it out she had already decided that she wouldn’t go home.

There would be no point. The palace would hunt her down and Salmeo would likely have her family killed out of spite. No, she had no home anymore. Instead, she would head west—perhaps to Merlinea where she had been told Lazar came from. The west still respected Lyana and perhaps she could find a convent or temple to take her in for a while. If they would have her, she might live the life of a priestess.

She came out of her musings as a youngster called Prem grabbed her arm, gushing, “The bundle women are coming soon as a special treat for us.”

“I know, I’m looking forward to it, too,” Ana said, trying not to show just how earnestly she meant it.

“Did you all have a wonderful day on the water?”

That set off a chorus of conversation that Ana was pleased to lose herself in whilst she nervously awaited the arrival of the bundle women. One of the Elim, a man called Olam, whom she liked, sidled up to her.

“Miss Ana.”

“Yes?”

“We are to escort you to the Zar’s chambers at nightfall.” Page 117

“I will see the bundle women with the rest of the girls, won’t I?” she asked, feigning anxiety about her harem companions. “It’s just, I missed out on the river barging with them.” Ana’s only thought now was for the arrival of the bundle women and not missing them.

He nodded reassuringly. “Yes, Miss Ana. I will collect you as soon as the bundle women have departed.

You will miss your evening meal, but the Grand Master Eunuch felt it was best you go to the Zar empty rather than full.”

Ana smiled wanly and nodded, covering her lap with her folded hands—the only modesty she could provide for herself. Olam’s eyes, however, did not waver from her own.

“Can I organize something light for you before the bundle women come, Miss Ana?”

“I’m not hungry, Olam.”

“I understand,” he said, backing away after a short bow.

“Not hungry? I’m starving,” Prem groaned.

Sascha, sitting nearby, laughed. “You’ve been eating all day, Prem. You’d better watch yourself or you’ll get fat and the Zar will never want to lie with you like he does with Ana. Then you’ll never have a chance at being a wife, or giving him an heir.”

Prem looked mortified by the threat, and Ana felt equally embarrassed, but for other reasons. The girls were taking this all so lightly. Was she the only one who feared the Zar’s touch? No, she knew that wasn’t true. They would all be as frightened as she their first time with a man, but her feelings went deeper; Ana did not want to be bedded by Boaz, whereas they all apparently did. She had listened to them talk about his handsome looks and wonder at what it would be like to be alone with him. They had all accepted their roles as odalisques and were planning ahead to their own special first nights with the Zar. As Sascha’s comment attested, some of the older ones were already thinking about children—about trying to give him an heir quickly.

But she was revolted by the thought. And it was not because she was too young, too frigid, or too uninterested in sexual liaison. None of that was relevant. There was only one obstacle, and its name was Lazar. Lazar was the only man she wanted to touch her—the only man she wanted to touch tenderly in return. Although, she thought wryly, if it were true that Lazar was alive, any chance she had to touch him might be squandered in the form of a punch. She had put the simmering thought of his lies about his death to the back of her mind for the past few hours but now it had erupted to wound her again. And Pez was in on the lie, and that meant Zafira was, too…and Jumo? Had Jumo rushed off to Merlinea to find Lazar’s kin, as Boaz had explained, or was that all part of the elaborate ruse? She blinked back a tear of self-pity and forced a bright smile onto her face.

“Well, at least you’ll have the benefit of my experience with the Zar,” she said amiably to the small crowd that had gathered around the conversation. “I can tell you what he likes.” Over the sound of laughter, Prem’s voice suddenly rang out. “The Elim are arriving! The bundle women must be here.”

Squeals of childish joy exploded from the younger girls, while the older odalisques, more demure, stood, gathering close to Ana, to await at a polite distance. All the girls had veiled themselves without having to be asked. Though it was not strictly necessary, the Valide had insisted they get into the habit so that it Page 118

became instinctive.

Right enough, behind the first four Elim came a motley assortment of brightly dressed women, all veiled—as was traditionally expected within the palace confines—and carrying the enormous bundles they were famous for.

“The Grand Master Eunuch said we can have whatever we want. The palace will settle the bill,” Sascha whispered.

“Very generous,” Ana replied tartly, inwardly sighing at how easily Salmeo manipulated the harem. But her only concern now was finding the right woman. She bit her lip in consternation at the worrying thought that she and Kett had not even planned how the woman would recognize her. Ana had to presume that Kett would have given a detailed enough description that the woman would be able to pick her out, and for the first time that evening she was grateful for the sheerness of the garments she was draped in. Her face, along with the rest of her body, was clearly visible.

She watched the girls peeling off from the main group to look at the various trinkets, fabrics, scarves, even some wooden toys for the youngest in the harem. The Elim had departed but would wait just outside the divan suite, leaving the various eunuch servants to watch from a discreet distance.

Ana saw a woman dressed in darker robes approach, her face fully veiled save for a tiny slit for her eyes. She held her breath. This was it. She had no idea how they were going to do this or even if it could be pulled off, but she cast a prayer to Lyana to guide her in this daring move. She nodded carefully at the woman.

The woman nodded back and surreptitiously pointed to an area in the suite that had a number of marble pillars. Ana understood. She beckoned to the woman to lay out her wares in and around the pillars. “I believe it’s less crowded over here,” she said aloud for good measure.

The stranger hefted the huge bundle from her back to the floor and Ana noticed her black hands, her fingers shaking as she untied the knot that held all the goods within. Finally they spilled out.

“Ribbons,” Ana commented nervously, for want of anything better to say.

The woman looked up, regarded her from behind the veil. “No one else but you wants them,” said a voice she recognized.

Taken aback, Ana stared into the dark eyes she could just see behind the veil. “Kett?” The figure nodded. “I’ll explain later. Now just do as I tell you.” Ana was too flustered to think straight, but hope surged. She had been worrying that the woman would not be able to carry her, but Kett was easily strong enough.

She watched him spread out his dozens of ribbons, stealing a glance around the room. Everyone was occupied; even the servants were distracted. She wondered why the Elim had so curiously left the room but could only thank Lyana that they had. “Kett,” she whispered, “no one is paying me any attention.”

“Yes, we are fortunate. But there’s going to be a distraction as we draw close to the end of the session.

I suggest you go and look at the other wares—make yourself noticed.” Page 119

Ana did so, strolling around behind the other girls, who were fingering the trinkets. She took her time, finally arriving behind Sascha, who was intrigued by a tiny red bean that one of the sellers was showing her. Ana moved closer to look. The bean was no larger than her own small fingernail and a tiny part of its top had been cut away and replaced by a beautifully shaped lid of ivory that fit snugly into the gap. She couldn’t imagine anyone carving anything so small. The woman now expertly removed the lid and tipped the contents from the bean into Sascha’s palm.

Both girls gasped with pleasure to see at least a dozen or more fragile, exquisitely carved elephants.

They were so tiny that Ana had to squint to make them out.

Sascha was kneeling and now turned to look at Ana. “Aren’t they breathtaking?”

“How does one work on anything that small? They must carve looking through a magnifying glass.” The woman nodded and Ana could see her grinning tooth-lessly through her soft veil.

“Very good price for you,” she encouraged, holding one of the beans out to Ana.

“Take one,” Sascha urged. “We both will.”

“Yes, why don’t you have one of those lovely items,” Salmeo suddenly said from behind her, the waft of violets sickening as it enveloped her.

Ana froze. How could she not have heard him arriving behind her? Why was he here? Surely it was not yet time! She forced herself not to look toward Kett for fear of giving him away. Instead she took a steadying breath and turned to face her nemesis.

“I have nowhere to put it, Grand Master Salmeo, as you can see,” she said, defying him to stare at her painted nipples, clearly visible through her gauzy gown.

But Salmeo accepted her challenge and proudly swept his gaze appreciatively across her body. “My dear, fret not, I shall have it sent to your chamber immediately. Does anything else take your fancy?” His lisp was worst when he was in his flirtatious mood.

“I have not finished looking yet, Grand Master Eunuch.”

“Carry on, then,” he replied sweetly, his tongue flicking out between the gap in his teeth as he smiled fondly at her. “Take all you want, Ana. Tonight is yours, but be ready, for Olam will come for you shortly.” He made to leave and then turned back for a parting shot. “I hope you’re not too sore from our intimate time together this afternoon,” and gave her no chance to respond.

Seething, she watched the huge man lightly glide away. A nagging thought flickered in the back of her mind, but she was distracted by a beckoning sign from Kett. The best way to hurt Salmeo was to beat him at his own game of cunning.

She held up her bean at the bundle woman. “May I?”

The woman nodded enthusiastically and immediately Sascha and several other girls began clamoring for some of the bright red beans. Ana took her chance and the added precaution of tapping Sascha on the shoulder and saying over the cacophony, “Excuse me a moment, I must relieve myself.” Page 120

“Hurry,” Sascha replied. “There isn’t much longer before they leave, you’ll miss everything,” and turned back to the trinkets, saying, “Oh, look at this!” as she found another interesting item.

Ana returned to Kett. “I’m not sure we can risk you in this,” she warned. Her voice shook. “Not now that Salmeo—”

“Forget about me, Miss Ana.” He cut across her words. “I am here now and no one suspects. If you wish to go, let us do it. If you have second thoughts, or are scared, I can leave with the other women and no one will be any the wiser.”

“I’m not scared for me,” she admonished in a whisper. “I’m worried for you.”

“Don’t be. This is my path. The path of sorrows.”

Caught off guard by his comment, Ana opened her mouth to question it just as a squeal went up behind them. Ana swung around to see that a bundle woman had brought in a basketload of kittens. A veritable army of tiny cats was scattering in all directions and the girls as well as bundle women and servants were giving chase.

“Now!” Kett demanded, pushing her toward the huge square of cloth. “Curl up tight!” Ana had no time to reconsider. She leaped into the middle of Kett’s bundle and within moments found herself encased in the gloom of his musty-smelling wares. She was careful to ensure that no elbow or toes pointed anywhere and held herself as small and as round as she could. She knew she was very supple; it was a game she’d played with her father—she never thought of him as a stepfather, even though he had found her as an orphan—he’d roll her around their hut just like a ball. She used that talent now to make herself invisible in the bundle.

She could hear the commotion around her as the cats were noisily rounded up. Above her she could sense Kett fiddling with the bundle and securing the knot that would keep her from falling out. She guessed his activity also made him look less conspicuous.

A gong sounded and signaled the end of the bundle women’s visit. Soft sighs of disappointment greeted the gong and then she could hear men’s voices as the Elim began to hurry the bundle women out of the divan suite.

“Where is Odalisque Ana?” she heard one ask. It was Olam.

Ana held her breath. This was it. Both she and Kett would be impaled as a result of another of her reckless, selfish acts.

But then she heard Sascha’s voice. “Ana went to relieve herself. She came and told me just a few moments ago, so she shouldn’t be long.”

“I shall be back to fetch her. There are some traditional rituals we must adhere to for the First Virgin before we take her to the Zar. Please tell her…”

Ana never heard what she was supposed to be told by Sascha, for Olam’s voice faded into the distance as Kett hurried away and she settled in as best she could for the bumpy ride.

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ZAFIRA FLED,DOING HER best to escape up the stairs from the advancing Grand Vizier, but at her age and with her knees no longer capable of such punishment, she gave way after about six steps, all but collapsing under her own weight.

Maliz was in no hurry. As he strolled up the stairs to where she lay, he made a tut-tutting sound of exasperation that he had had to go through this drama. There was no longer any need for pretense on his part. “Where did you think you might run to, old woman?” He grabbed her bony ankle and ruthlessly pulled her backward down the stairs, her chin, ribs, and elbows smashing savagely against the stone. He smiled to hear her shrieks of pain.

At the bottom he flipped her over, took a fistful of her robe, and pulled her up to face him, deriving pleasure from her ragged breathing.

Zafira found the courage to open her eyes, and Maliz was surprised to see nothing but defiance in those rheumy orbs. Gone was the fear, and definitely gone was the pretense. His prisoner moved her head to stare at the statue of the Goddess behind him and she began murmuring a prayer to Lyana.

He shook her as a hunting dog might shake its quarry once it is caught, but she ignored him, continued with her prayer, finally finishing with a beatific smile.

“I am done, Maliz. Do what you will.” Her voice was as cold as the pillar he had shoved her up against.

Maliz snarled and pushed her harder against the pale stone. “You name me, Priestess. I’m impressed. I thought your lips might burn to say it.”

She snarled back through her agony, “Enjoy your small victory, demon. It is pathetic and will be your last.”

He laughed, and threw her down to the floor, hearing a brittle bone somewhere in her body protest with a snap. He kicked her viciously, that same shard of bone now puncturing through her skin, obviously slashing through a lung as well, going by the gush of blood from her mouth. She shrieked once and then wept silently, her mouth opened in a silent scream as blood and spittle continued to puddle on the floor beneath her.

“Your end is close, Priestess. Just listen to your breathing. Why don’t you make it easy on yourself?”

“How?”

“Tell me who she is.”

“And then what?” She sneered through the pain, her voice gurgling with the liquid in her throat.

“I shall snap your neck in an instant and you will suffer no more.”

“And if I keep my secret?”

“You will die in agony.”

“And you think that scares me?”

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“It should.”

Maliz was impressed by her courage when she spoke again through her pain. “She has spoken to me, comforted me with the knowledge that she will prevail this time. You are as good as dead, Maliz, so enjoy your last conquest. My death is meaningless, for my work is already done. You are too late.” Maliz knew he was being baited, but still he couldn’t ignore her derision. He kicked her as hard as he could, relishing the cracking sound as more ribs gave way beneath his foot.

“How does that feel, Priestess?”

Unbelievably to his ears, she laughed, although blood flew from her mouth. “Each blow speeds me closer to my Goddess. Lyana is mocking you, Maliz.”

“Who are your companions?”

Her scorn came out as a gurgle of blood that rattled in her throat and spilled from her nose as well as her mouth. “All of Percheron.”

This time Maliz picked her up and threw her against a pillar with a sickening crunch. He knew it was idiotic to kill the only link he had to Iridor and Lyana, but his need for bloodletting and venting his anger had to be answered. She looked to be dead—was certainly almost gone to her god.

“Is the dwarf Iridor?” he demanded, leaning close to her bloodied face.

“No,” she croaked, her tone filled with derision. “The dwarf is an idiot, as you well know. I will never tell you who Iridor is, but he is hunting you as we speak, Maliz, and more’s the pity I won’t live long enough to tell him who you are.” She rattled a cough that sounded like death arriving.

A new thought struck Maliz, and as distasteful as it was, the destruction of Lyana overrode everything.

“Zafira, before you leave this plane, I’m thinking I should send you to the bitch goddess with my seed running down your thighs. An intriguing irony for a virginal priestess of Lyana, don’t you think?” At this, her eyes flew open and he knew he had hit on the right threat. He reached for her robes and began lifting them. “No one comes here, Priestess. No one will rescue you from this. No one but me, that is.”

Her robes were already pulled above her knees, revealing her withered thighs. Distasteful as Maliz found her body, he knew this threat was the one thing that might loosen her tongue. “I know you wanted to go to your goddess the virgin you were when you gave yourself to her. But I’m afraid I’ve got a rush of blood at having roughed you up, Zafira. I feel a strong desire to release that pent-up lust…and sadly for both of us, you’re the closest thing.”

He pressed his point by climbing on top of her, Zafira’s weak attempts to push him off laughable. He ripped open her robes to reveal her wrinkled and naked body.

“Not very attractive, Zafira, but it will have to do,” he said, reaching to loosen the top of his trousers.

“No,” she begged. “Do not desecrate me or her temple.”

“One word will do it, Priestess.”

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“I do not know who she is,” she pleaded now, terror in her voice. “I promise you, I know not who is Lyana’s vessel.”

He believed her. In his experience it was too early for Lyana to have fully come into her new incarnation.

“One word, Zafira,” he repeated.

“What word?”

“Who is Iridor? Speak his name and I will finish you off quickly.”

“No rape?”

He shook his head. “A single word.”

She nodded, closed her eyes, and he watched her breathe a short prayer begging forgiveness. Then she opened her eyes and said the name he had been waiting to hear.

It did not surprise him. But it did enrage him.

14

Ana had lost sense of time and place. She had heard some voices—men’s voices—and presumed the guards were moving them through the various gates, although she had no idea which. All she knew was the swaying rhythm of Kett’s hurried movements, and just moments ago she’d felt herself tip dangerously forward, but her heart had leaped at this sudden movement—first in fear and then in hope. Surely this meant they were free of the palace, moving downhill toward the bazaar. Still, she didn’t dare make any sound…not yet.

Kett had broken into a jog. She presumed she must be feeling unbearably heavy and he must see his destination, she thought, for him to be risking breaking into a run. Within moments she felt herself dropping and then hitting the ground hard. Fortunately the fabrics in the bundle around her cushioned her fall.

Ana could hear Kett’s labored breathing. Still she waited until he opened the bundle before she said anything, for she couldn’t be sure he hadn’t simply dropped her from exhaustion.

“Miss Ana!” he hissed. “Are you hurt?” The familiar eyes behind the dark veils were filled with concern.

“Are we safe?” she risked asking.

He nodded. “For a short while. Did I hurt you?”

“No, Kett. You’ve saved my life.” She sprang to her feet and hugged him, ripping off his veil so she could look upon his sweet, trusting face. “Such a risk you took.” She shook her head and began kissing his cheeks.

He was still breathing hard but managed to laugh. “Hush, Miss Ana. We’re not that safe!”

“I’ve got to get out of these clothes, Kett. Have you got anything? Where are we?” Page 124

“I have everything already arranged. Behind those big olive jars are some ordinary street clothes. Make sure you are fully veiled or that hair will give you away, Miss Ana.” They had shared too much nakedness already for her to fret about her lack of modesty; and she quickly ripped off her silken blue robes. After undoing the jewelery about her neck, she held it out to Kett. “You take this and my bracelets.”

“I don’t want—”

She ignored his protests. “Don’t sell it here. They’re too recognizable. And I can’t have them about me.” When he still looked doubtful, she added: “Give them away if you want, but not here.” He nodded. She piled the jewelery into his cupped hands. “Use the gold to pay off whomever you have to.”

“I don’t have to pay anyone.”

She frowned as she pulled on the street clothes. “What do you mean?”

“I couldn’t tell you in the palace. But when I came to the bazaar looking for that friend I told you about, I was stopped by a woman. She was very young and beautiful. She asked me not to use the corrupt bundle woman but to go in disguise myself.”

“And you did, just like that?”

Kett smiled. “She was very persuasive. She named me—knew who I was, and who I represent.”

“Who you represent?”

“I am the Raven, Miss Ana. The black bird of sorrows.”

“You said something similar earlier. What does that mean?” she asked as she smoothed down her clothes. Reaching for the veil, she held the thin fabric between her fingers.

He shrugged, began pulling off his skirts until he stood naked save for his loincloth. “I don’t know, to be honest. All I know is that I serve her. Lyana will guide me.” Ana looked up sharply. “Lyana?”

“You, Miss Ana. I serve Lyana through serving you.” The slave smiled.

“Kett, I—”

“No. Let’s not talk about it. We both serve Lyana, we each have our role to play. I don’t know what being the black bird means, although the lady seemed to look sad for me as we spoke. Perhaps that’s why I’m the bird of sorrows.”

Ana shook her head, still bafffled. “What was this woman’s name? Did she tell you?”

“She called herself Ellyana. And I could refuse her nothing. We must hide all the clothes,” he warned.

She nodded, understanding now. “I’m still frightened by the risk you took,” Ana persisted. “Promise me you will leave the city tonight, Kett, as I must.”

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“It’s a pity we can’t leave together.”

“I know, but it’s too dangerous. And if I get caught I don’t want you caught with me.”

“You won’t get caught, Miss Ana. Where are you going?”

“Get dressed, Kett. I’m going west, getting as far away from Percheron as I can. What about you? Any ideas?”

He was pulling his trousers on. “No plan. Like you, as far away from here as possible. My mother has people in the desert caravans—perhaps I can join them.”

She shook her head. “No, Kett! You cannot turn to anyone who knows you or your family. Do you hear me? Salmeo will find you and he will kill everyone you love. Go in the opposite direction. Go east.

Get on a ship and sail away from here. You have a fortune in jewelry. Sell it wisely and you will be a made man.” She stumbled over the last two words, embarrassed by her verbal clumsiness.

Kett graciously let it pass, looking down as he reached for his shirt. “And so we shall never see each other again.”

She shook her head, a sad smile on her mouth. Before she put her veil on and before he could pull his shirt on, she reached up to take his face, and putting her lips against his, she kissed him long and softly.

There was no desire in it, only sincere friendship and gratitude.

At a noise behind them, they pulled apart. Ana felt as though her insides had turned instantly to water.

Standing in the space where a curtain had only moments ago kept their secret stood Salmeo, surrounded by his Elim, and a horrified-looking Valide.

“Get them,” was all Salmeo said. Herezah said nothing, but her look of pure hatred spoke volumes.

PEZ WAS ARGUING WITHBin.

“Must see my Zar!” he said, stamping his foot. “He has my butterflies.”

“Pez,” Bin said calmly. “I’ve explained that he does not want to see you. He will call you when he does.

He is preparing to meet with Odalisque—”

Bin was unable to say any more. Pez had begun one of his infamous screaming sessions.

Bin backed away, unsure of what to do. Pez fell to the ground, writhing, the intensity of his shrieks becoming increasingly piercing. One of the mutes happened to look outside the door to summon Bin and frowned when he saw the dwarf on the ground.

“I wish I were deaf like you, Salazin,” Bin murmured to himself, nodding expectantly at the mute. Salazin signaled that the Zar wished to see him.

“Thank you,” Bin gestured, then shrugged his shoulders toward Pez, suggesting that he was lost as to what to do with the dwarf.

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Salazin came into the vestibule where the Zar’s secretary worked and walked toward the writhing creature on the floor. He pinned the dwarf ’s short arms behind him and lifted him easily, shaking him like a doll to be quiet.

Pez stopped his noise and Bin sighed, relieved. “Thank you again, Salazin,” he said again using the practiced sign language to say he didn’t know how he was going to stop Pez.

Salazin pointed to the Zar’s chambers questioningly.

Bin shook his head quickly. “No.”

The mute put the dwarf down, and Pez remained mercifully silent as the mute signed with his fingers that it would be a good thing for the Zar and his pet to be friends again.

Bin sighed. Gave a look of resignation. He signed:It’s your throat. I’ll deny I had anything to do with this.

Salazin grinned. He picked Pez up again, as if he weighed nothing, and strode into the room, Bin running behind and making merry protest for the Zar’s benefit.

BOAZ WAS IN HISdressing chamber. One other mute was in attendance whilst the Zar’s dresser fussed over the outfit that had been chosen for the Zar to greet his First Virgin in.

At the interruption, the Zar glared at Bin and then at Pez, who again stayed silent. Bin bowed, as did Salazin.

“I couldn’t stop him, Majesty. Pez arrived and was making a dreadful noise outside—only Salazin was spared the blood curdling shrieks—and although I said you did not wish to see Pez, Salazin believed you might.”

“It’s important,” Pez whined, picking his nose. He was also tapping his foot. Despite his annoyance, Boaz couldn’t ignore the sign. Long ago the two of them had worked out a code using physical signals to communicate simple messages. They’d employed it throughout Boaz’s childhood, and although it hadn’t been used in over a year, Boaz felt the sentimental pull at his heartstrings and his instant response to Pez’s tension—he could not ignore the urgent plea, no matter how angry he still was at Pez. Boaz maintained his stony silence until everyone felt the discomfort. Finally he slapped away the dresser’s hand. “I’m ready,” he said. The man bowed, knowing he had just been dismissed.

Bin continued his lament. “Forgive me, Zar Boaz. Salazin just picked up the dwarf and brought him in.” Boaz signed a query to Salazin. He, Bin, and the Vizier were the only people permitted to know the secret signing language and each was proficient in it now, although Boaz was by far the most adept at using this challenging form of communication. Sometimes the mutes themselves didn’t know what he was asking when the speed of his hands became too quick for them to follow—all but one, that is.

Salazin answered, his fingers moving as fast as Boaz’s.Because, Majesty, this is your great friend, as I understand it, and I think he will die of heartbreak soon if he can’t be with you.

I said not until I summoned him. Do you defy me, Salazin?

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No, High One. I care deeply for your happiness and I know Pez makes you smile. Even a dog could be forgiven an indiscretion by its master, Majesty. This is a special night for you. Let it be a happy one.

Salazin is a clever one,Boaz thought wryly to himself.Tariq picked wisely. The truth was, Boaz really liked having Salazin around. The young man’s presence was always comforting and indeed calming. He never communicated unless spoken to and had a knack for disappearing into the room they were in.

There were times when Boaz could forget the warrior was nearby and yet the mute was always alert, always ready to leap to the Zar’s needs. Yes, he liked Salazin immensely.

Forgiving the mute the interruption, he nodded decisively. “Leave us,” he finally said. “I will speak with Pez.”

Salazin nodded, understanding the response even without hearing the words. Bin bowed, obviously relieved.

The Zar spoke directly to his mutes now through sign language.I want privacy with Pez. You can wait outside.

The men nodded, bowed, and left.

“Thank you,” Pez said tentatively into the silence after the door closed.

“I suppose you put on one of your shows out there?” Boaz said absently, looking at himself in the tall glass.

“The best,” Pez agreed.

“I told you to wait until I wished to see you.”

“That might have been never, my Zar.”

“And so what if it was?” Boaz replied, determined not to let Pez have his clever way and quickly ingratiate himself. He was still furious with the dwarf for challenging him.

“Well, then, I would not be able to give you the important news I have discovered.”

“Which is?” Boaz said, yawning in feigned boredom.

“Lazar is alive,” Pez said flatly.

Boaz swung around to face the dwarf. Disbelief, anger, and hope warred within him.

Pez hurried to explain. “It has all been a ruse, Highness…but not of Lazar’s doing and not of mine.

Lazar nearly died, it’s true. But I’ve found him. I’ve been looking for him on your behalf since I first heard the unbelievable news of his death.”

“You’ve been looking for him?” Boaz’s voice was soft, uncertain, almost apologetic.

“It’s why I kept leaving the palace, my Zar. I never trusted the information we were told, even though the priestess is a friend of mine. Lazar might well have perished—but he would not have had his body Page 128

committed to the sea. He was a man of the desert. That’s where he would wish to lie, not on the bottom of the Faranel.”

Boaz felt shaken, knew he must look unsteady. “Why didn’t you share your mistrust?”

“You’ve never really given me a chance. We rarely get time alone anymore, Highness, and it is not something I could just drop into casual conversation. I needed to be sure.”

“What about Jumo?”

Pez shrugged. “Another victim of the lie.”

“Where have you found Lazar?”

“He has been recuperating on Star Island.”

Boaz’s eyes widened in shock. “How did you know?”

“A wild guess, Zar Boaz. None of us truly believed he might be there, but, yes, perhaps we should have checked. In the end I did, on your behalf.”

“Well…” Boaz spluttered, unsure of what to say. He had a hundred questions, Pez could see.

The dwarf held up his gnarled hand. “He has been very sick. Deathly sick, unable to fend for himself.

That’s why it’s taken so long for us to learn the truth. It took weeks for him to find full consciousness again, months to move without help. A year before he could walk unaided. That’s how the priestess was able to spin her terrible tale. Lazar was unable to defend himself.”

“But why did Zafira lie?” Boaz asked, aghast. He had trusted the old priestess, liked her.

“You will have to ask her that, my Zar. I am as injured as you by her lies.” Boaz felt utterly confused. “But with all her efforts she saved his life, didn’t she?”

“She did. Why she would tell you he was dead when she alone nursed him back to health, I cannot say, although I have my suspicions.”

“Which are?”

“Well, there is no doubt someone wanted Lazar dead—that someone tried to poison him. I’m guessing Zafira went down this extraordinarily mysterious path in order to protect him. She let the murderer believe that he had succeeded, and this gave her time to nurse him back to full health.”

“But if she’d come to me—”

“Ah, but there was, to all intents, a murderer on the loose, Majesty—in the palace, no less, and she wasn’t prepared to risk another attempt once he discovered he had not fully succeeded in killing the Spur. I suspect she simply didn’t believe you could protect him.” Boaz bristled. “Get the priestess here. I have to talk to her directly.” Page 129

“We cannot, Majesty.”

“Why?” he demanded.

“She has disappeared.”

The Zar snapped his displeasure, feeling his emotions spiraling. “Disappeared?” Pez nodded gravely. “I went to see her at the Sea Temple today and she was gone.”

“Well, that sounds suspicious?” Boaz replied, beginning to pace his chamber. Lazar alive! He didn’t know whether to be excited at the news or appalled that it had taken so long for him to discover it. “And Lazar?”

“Is coming to you tonight. He wishes to present himself. I thought it only fair to warn you, High One. It was a shock for me when I found him and I didn’t want you to be placed in an awkward position.” Boaz looked gently at his friend. He felt suddenly sickened to have misjudged his oldest, greatest friend.

He wondered what his father might think of his behavior toward one of Joreb’s favorite people. “I have wronged you, Pez. I was angry at your accusations but I should have listened to you, trusted you. You are the true friend in my life.”

“I would never do anything to hurt you, my Zar, and I’m sorry I made you so angry. I have been…well, shall we say, preoccupied.”

“It is forgotten,” Boaz said, waving their differences aside. “My concern is about how this is going to look.”

“What does it matter how it looks? You have your Spur back. You had no part in the ruse. Let’s be honest, my Zar, the city folk of Percheron will care only that he lives. They will welcome the opportunity to celebrate his return.”

“That’s right,” Boaz agreed, thinking it through. “We are innocent in this. We believed what we were told by someone we thought we could trust. And a crime was still perpetrated against Lazar, and someone took responsibility for it.”

“Whether he was guilty or not,” Pez finished the unspoken words that Boaz could not.

The Zar continued, ignoring the interruption and the pain its words provoked. “The Crown has nothing to feel guilty about.”

“Nothing at all, Majesty. Just welcome your Spur back with open arms.” Boaz nodded. “How can I ensure that this is kept secret for now?”

“Why would you want it to be kept quiet?”

“Just for now. I would like to speak with Lazar before his return becomes public knowledge.”

“I can’t wait to see Salmeo’s face when he claps eyes on Lazar,” Pez said knowingly.

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“My mother’s face is going to be a picture, too,” Boaz offered sourly.

“I shall go, Highness,” Pez said.

“To Lazar?”

At the dwarf ’s nod, Boaz instructed, “Tell him to come in the early hours, and hooded. Tell him to bring this.” He bent over a piece of parchment and quickly dribbled some green wax on it from a special candle that burned only in his own rooms. Then, using the great seal he wore around his neck on a beautifully wrought chain, he imprinted his personal mark in the soft wax. “This will gain him instant access to the palace. I will send one of my mutes to escort him. He is not to be recognized.”

“Why the early hour?”

“I have a meeting with Ana.”

Pez nodded knowingly and then muttered a phrase in a language the Zar did not recognize. At Boaz’s questioning look, the dwarf smiled sadly. “Roughly translated it means ‘take a wife tonight.’” The Zar looked suddenly coy. “It is my intention.”

“That is good. I go now,” Pez said hurriedly. “I’m glad we’re friends again, Boaz.” Boaz grinned wryly at him. “Of course, no one but yourself and myself will celebrate.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Pez replied. “I shall return,” he added, leaving the Zar’s chambers in a series of somersaults, before cavorting down the hallway.

“Ah, and so the world rights itself,” Bin said wearily, no doubt more to himself than anyone else, for he had only mutes for company.

PEZ FLEW SILENTLY THROUGHthe warm air, his spirits feeling lighter for having restored the balance of friendship between himself and Boaz. He had begun to worry about being alienated in the palace. It had occurred to him that Boaz, in his anger—if it persisted, and Boaz could always be so single-minded—might even ban him from being able to roam wherever he wanted.

He scanned the bay from his high vantage, hoping to see Lazar being rowed back to the mainland—although he suspected Lazar would doggedly row himself back. There was little movement on the water this night, though. His gaze alighting on Beloch, he scrutinized the giant. It was not Pez’s imagination; distinct cracks had appeared up and down the stone of the giant’s body. From afar, as most people viewed them, they were noticeable, although not especially eye-catching. But close up the cracks looked serious—it was as if Beloch were simply falling apart, crumbling to the floor. Pez couldn’t shake the notion that the giant was not dying but being reborn.

“Are you, Beloch? Are you rising, as I have and Lyana must, to fight the coming battle?” If he expected an answer, he didn’t get one. The only sound was the distant rumble of the city and the lapping of the water around Beloch’s feet. Not even the lonely cry of a seabird broke the silence, and the ships were still, anchored for the night. Lazar was not here, not yet anyway.

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Pez sighed and in his owl guise turned to face Star Island. He felt he should go there and catch the former Spur before he left. His gaze was distracted momentarily, from the dark mound in the distance where a few torches burned to guide any night travelers to an unfamiliar shadow on the Sea Temple. It instantly struck him as odd that the new spire, which a donation from Boaz had paid for, looked misshapen. He concentrated, and as his sharp owl eyesight focused carefully, any lightness of heart, however vague fled in that instant of anguish. And with a heart growing heavier by the second, he found the courage to lift from Beloch’s head and fly straight toward certain despair.

ANA AND KETT STOODin Salmeo’s salon, trembling with fear in the warm night air. The Grand Master Eunuch and the Valide hadn’t allowed Kett to finish dressing, so he remained half naked. Thrown at Ana’s feet was her pale blue First Virgin outfit, stained and torn. Her jewelery was laid at Kett’s feet, a chilling glimpse of what the Grand Master Eunuch planned to accuse him of.

Ana was in a state of deep shock. That she was destined to die was obvious, and in her mind her life was not worth fretting over—other than to hope it was quick, for the notion of prolonged suffering made her fearful. But Kett was a different matter altogether. Kett, her friend who had risked so much—he would die, too, and she was sure that Salmeo and Herezah would show no mercy and not permit his end to be anything but truly ghoulish.

She was ashamed of herself for being so gullible. From the moment she had seen Salmeo licking his lips in that doorway of the bazaar, she had understood with a vicious clarity that she had never escaped at all.

For all her ingenuity and daring, she had been permitted to leave the harem; it was another of Salmeo’s and no doubt Herezah’s cunning manipulations. They had wanted her to try another escape and so they had done everything they could to encourage her in this attempt.

She went over it in her mind now. The supposedly surprise trip to the bazaar had given Herezah the perfect opportunity to initiate the carefully, almost beautifully constructed conversation that had pushed Ana into making a rash decision. And then, of course, Salmeo’s revolting touch. She felt sure when Sascha’s turn came—as beautiful as the girl was—Salmeo would break her hymen swiftly and coolly. He had lingered with Ana, aroused her, and driven her into such a state of revulsion and passion that she would do anything to distance herself from his repulsive being…even attempt escape. She let out a laugh, although it came out as a dry sob; Salmeo had even urged Kett on his errand to the market—it had all been so deliberately and exquisitely constructed. Salmeo and Herezah had known everything she and Kett would do before they had even attempted it. How naive they had been to think they could fool the palace’s most cruelly manipulative pair with their pathetic escapade.

Even the Elim, she realized now, had been specifically ordered to stand outside the divan suite so that she could feel safe in making her escape attempt. How stupid she had been not to ignore the nagging voice inside. It had been trying to tell her that the Elimnever left the girls entirely alone or unsupervised.

That ruse alone should have set off every alarm in her head.

Ana now realized that the whole business of the bundle women and the treat for the girls had been a sham, too. Salmeo had set it up to make it as easy as possible for Ana to make this audacious attempt—just so that he could entrap her. How low would the Valide and Grand Master Eunuch stoop to ensure that she never got close to Boaz? She smirked inwardly with wry pity for herself—they wanted nothing less than her execution and she had blindly walked down their pathway as purposefully as if they had put a ring through her nose and led her by a rope as one would a dull beast. Salmeo had probably planted the idea of escape in Kett’s head. She felt ill inside thinking how excited he had been to tell her of Page 132

the brave odalisque who had risked everything to escape the prison of the harem and had succeeded by hiding herself in one of the bundles. She had believed it because she wanted to, because she was so desperate to get away from Salmeo and the threat of Boaz’s bed. And she had acted as only a fool would.

“Kneel in the presence of your Zar, slut!” Herezah commanded, and Ana was dragged from her miserable thoughts to realize that Boaz, flanked by Salazin, had entered, his face a mask of misery.

The Elim pushed her to her knees, although she needed no help. She was ready to collapse from shame and despair at her own stupidity.

A terrible silence descended.

“Tell me,” she heard the Zar say.

She heard the rustle of silk as Salmeo bowed and began constructing his sordid story.

“Odalisque Ana had been prepared for you, my Zar, as you requested this morning. We had seen to it that she enjoyed a special day that marked her new status as First Chosen Virgin. In fact, the Valide took her alone, save a few Elim, into the grand bazaar to personally select her jewelery and other accoutrements for the occasion. It was a high honor given to one so young.” Ana heard Boaz sigh. Perhaps he, too, had already accepted the fact that Salmeo’s truth would be spun with dark threads of lies.

The Zar addressed them. “Ana, Kett, you may remain kneeling, but I would prefer you faced your accusers.”

Ana reluctantly lifted her head, although she could not bring herself to meet the Zar’s pained gaze.

Salmeo continued: “Odalisque Ana was told that you had made your choice and had given your command concerning her. She was prepared in the ritual fashion, Majesty—”

“Which you no doubt played your critical part in, Grand Master Salmeo?”

“Of course, Highness. That is one of my duties,” the eunuch said with no aggression. His voice was gentle, his lisp pronounced. And now, as he began to wave his arms, warming to the tale, the fragrance of violets assaulted Ana. “The Valide granted the odalisques a special treat in the shape of a visit from the bundle women. In fact—”

“Why?” Boaz asked, turning to his mother. “The girls had already enjoyed a long day on the water. Why was more of a treat necessary?”

“My Zar, I did not realize one could ever have too many treats,” Herezah replied, lacing her tone with hurt indignation. “I grew up in the harem. I know how few and far between the moments of fun can be. I was hoping, as Valide, to change that for your odalisques. They are still so young. I may be old, but I am not so old that I can’t recall the dullness forced on youth in this place. Perhaps wrongly, I thought if I personally gave them a special treat, it might encourage the younger ones to feel less daunted by me.” Ana watched Herezah finish her explanation with a plaintive shrug. The Valide was a true master of role playing; she ought to be admired for her chameleonlike ability to be anything to anyone that she chose to Page 133

be. Ana despised her.

“I see,” Boaz said noncommittally, although Ana sensed he saw straight through the veneer of his mother’s tale. “Continue,” he said to Salmeo.

“Well, Majesty, we allowed Ana to enjoy some time with the other odalisques. She had, after all, missed out on the boating trip with her Zar and so we decided to let her share the treat of the bundle women.”

“That’s very generous of you, Grand Master Eunuch,” Boaz said. “Ana, did you select anything from all the wares on offer?”

Ana was forced to confront Boaz’s pained expression and was about to shake her head when she remembered the bean. Truth was best. “Yes, Zar Boaz. At Grand Master Salmeo’s insistence I felt obliged to accept this.” She dug into her pocket and pulled out the tiny bean of elephants. She uncapped it and tipped the contents into her palm. “They are ivory, Majesty.”

“How intriguing,” Boaz said, leaning down to stare at them with fascination. She could smell his freshly bathed hair. Bathed for her. “And you say the chief eunuch encouraged you?” She nodded. “There is nothing I want for, Majesty—”

“Except your freedom, obviously,” he replied sharply.

Ana felt the stab of guilt but he was right—she could hardly deny it. “Yes, Highness. I have made a habit of proving that, haven’t I?” She caught the look of anger from her accusers at her familiarity with him but ignored it. “I have no defense, Highness. An opportunity presented itself and I took it.”

“May I?” Salmeo cut in.

Boaz nodded, his expression unhappy.

“My Zar, this is not a simple case of Odalisque Ana seizing a rare chance for freedom. I think a year ago we were able to make that argument on her behalf because of her age, her newness to the palace, and, through my fault, genuine opportunity that was taken on the whim of a moment.”

“And this time?” the Zar queried.

“Well, this time it was premeditated, my Zar,” Salmeo exclaimed, his voice filled with well-practiced indignation. “Odalisque Ana could not have escaped the palace without carefully setting up her plan first.

She and the eunuch, Kett, were in this together from the start. They had ample chance during the whole of today in each other’s almost exclusive company to hatch and test their plan. Forgive me my directness, Highness, but there was absolutely nothing spontaneous this time about Odalisque Ana’s decision.”

“And why would Kett aid Odalisque Ana? Do you see it as revenge for the justice meted out to him for his error more than a year ago?”

At Boaz’s question Ana could see see Herezah’s shoulders relax and Salmeo’s eyelids narrow a fraction and she knew the Zar had walked into a trap. Glancing at Kett, she saw him slump still further and she closed her eyes in resignation.

“Kett is an enigma, my Zar,” Salmeo began, his voice soft, almost tender now. “He has loved Odalisque Page 134

Ana since the day he saw her naked and frightened in the Choosing Room. They shared a deeply emotional experience when he was cut, Majesty, and from there on, I think, in Kett’s disturbed, fevered mind he and she were meant to be together. I think he now believes, in his twisted logic, that he’s in love with one of your prized women, my Zar.”

“That’s a lie!” Ana yelled, disgusted by both the inflammatory words and how well Salmeo was playing the situation to provoke the Zar.

Herezah gasped and Salmeo pursed his fat lips. Both looked to Boaz to censure her.

Boaz did not like what he was hearing, as was clear from his darkened expression. “Ana, let the Grand Master Eunuch finish. You will have your chance to speak, for this is the most serious of accusations.

Continue,” he ordered Salmeo.

“I was going to say, my Zar, that no man would risk so much for a woman unless he had a special devotion to her. We found all of Ana’s precious jewels with his belongings, but I don’t believe Kett did this for wealth. He could hardly sell any of these jewels locally. No, Highness, Kett had more ‘spiritual’

reasons, you could say, for aiding Odalisque Ana in her misguided plan.” Ana opened her mouth to protest and shut it again at Boaz’s glare.

“Finish your sorry tale, Grand Master Eunuch. I find it distressing to drag it out any longer.” Salmeo bowed his head. “Of course, Highness. We found the pair of them in a grubby backstreet of the bazaar in what could only be described as a…well, shall we say, regrettable position.”

“Be specific, Salmeo. I want all the facts, not innuendo.”

“As you wish, Highness. Odalisque Ana was discovered unveiled, her palace clothes thrown behind an olive jar, whilst her companion was all but naked. This in itself is a damning set of circumstances that demands the most stringent of punishments, Majesty. However, that is not the full extent of your odalisque’s treachery. She was also found in the arms of her eunuch companion, their lips in warm embrace.”

Boaz shot Ana a glare of such rage, she had no doubt that he was ready to pronounce the death sentence.

“I’m sorry, son,” Herezah said softly from the background. “She is a vixen and a user of men.” Boaz did not reply to his mother. Instead his blistering gaze was fixed on Ana. “It is your turn, Ana. Can you refute any of what is leveled against you?”

Ana knew it was hopeless. Boaz’s eyes were glazed with jealousy. She doubted he would see much reason now that Salmeo had primed him so skillfully. Furthermore, Boaz could not, would not, overturn certain fundamental harem rules. She had been caught with another man—she had for all intents and purposes cuckolded the Zar. Her next decision was made to deliberately inflame her accusers still further.

She had nothing to lose and only pleasure to gain from watching Herezah’s gathering fury as she switched into the Galinsean language. “I prefer not to debase myself further with trying to justify my actions, which Grand Master Salmeo has related with such creative embellishments, Zar Boaz. May I suggest you do the honorable thing by your crown, Majesty. Although I beg you to spare Kett. He is an innocent and was driven by a desire to serve, Highness, which I would imagine you might consider an attribute in any Page 135

slave.”

Herezah’s expression of deep hatred seared Ana as effectively as if she had thrown a lamp of burning oil at her. Salmeo simply looked amused by her eloquent soliloquy, even though he had understood not a word. The Zar blinked several times as he first struggled to understand and then digest her cutting words.

“You wish to die?” he asked, aghast

Again she replied in Galinsean. “It is where this is all headed, Zar Boaz. It would be naive for us to think otherwise. Let us make it easier for everyone and prevent a late night of recriminations and tears.” She switched back agilely to Percherese. “I am guilty, yes. I have made my second attempt at escape from the harem and I fully understood the consequences when I made that decision. My only regret is that I roped an innocent into my plan. I will add that I did not kiss Kett out of lust, as suggested, but purely in thanks for his unselfish risk taking.”

“Zar Boaz, this is all very noble,” Herezah cut in, exasperated. “The fact of the matter is, an odalisque has been found unveiled in the presence of a man—a half-naked man at that. In this there is no argument.”

“If you can call Kett a man, Highness,” Ana said calmly. “The harem took that status away from him in all but title.”

“We had no choice, Highness,” Salmeo lisped. “Kett broke a sacred rule. And now he has done it again. I cannot see why any mercy should—or indeed can—be shown to a person who has already been given a second chance for redemption. He has snubbed that opportunity.”

“I agree,” Boaz said. “Kett, I have no choice in this but to get my palace in order. I will not brook this sort of disobedience. I demand loyalty. You understood the consequences, I’m sure, of your actions.”

“I did, Highness, and the truth is I would do it again for Miss Ana,” Kett replied, the brave words belying his stricken expression.

Boaz nodded. “I admire your courage, Kett. You will be ganched tomorrow at noon, your body tossed onto the death hooks to squirm and die. May the hooks find their mark and kill you swiftly.”

“No, Boaz!” Ana begged.

He ignored her. “Take him away,” he commanded the Elim standing nearby.

Without farther ceremony, the young eunuch was pulled to his feet and hurried from the room, without so much as a chance to say farewell to Ana, although his sorrowful gaze over his shoulder said enough.

Ana felt the hot tears sliding down her face. “You brute! You are callous like your mother, Zar Boaz. I can only pity you and the people of Percheron.”

Without warning Herezah stepped up and slapped the kneeling odalisque with such force that Ana toppled sideways. “Don’t you dare take his or my name in vain. You are nothing!” she spat, in a rare emotional outburst. “You are not worthy so much as to look upon him again. Slut!”

“Mother,” Boaz warned. “Step back or return to your chambers.” Page 136

“My son, I will no longer listen to these filthy words from this girl. You have heard what she has done this day and let me add that I, too, witnessed her kissing the half-naked black eunuch. All our sacred rules have been flouted by this one girl since her arrival. You have no choice but to take punitive measures, as your father before you would have done. I shall take my leave,” she finished, breathing hard, eyes glittering furiously as she took a lingering look at her son before formally dropping a low curtsy. She straightened, shot a final scathing glance at Ana, and left without another word.

Ana was initially surprised that the Valide did not want to witness Boaz’s declaration as to his odalisque’s fate. But then she realized that this was Herezah’s great strength. She understood restraint—she grasped the intimate complexity of situations and how to play people off against one another. Leaving as she had done—as much as it would have galled her—still gave her an air of nobility; washing her hands of the wretched girl who had brought the harem into disrepute and washing her hands of the whole sorry situation, as though she was no party to it. Herezah was too clever. Ana should have spent more time learning from her rather than clashing with her.

It was too late now. In the silence, Ana pushed Boaz still further. She would not live again under the harem rules and, true to herself, would rather die than be returned to Salmeo and Herezah’s care. “You should listen to your mother, Boaz. Haven’t you always? You probably always will.” Salmeo looked set to explode into laughter. It was obvious he had never heard anyone speak to a Zar with the disdain that this slip of a girl was allowing herself this evening.

Seething beneath the huge eunuch’s not-very-well-disguised mirth, Boaz snapped, “It seems you have a death wish, Odalisque Ana, that you would provoke me so.”

“Pronounce sentence, Zar Boaz, I tire of this audience.”

Boaz swallowed. She knew she left him no choice and Salmeo’s delight in his Zar’s discomfort was all too plain to read on the eunuch’s face. Ana had played the Zar better, though; the future security of the royals was doomed if a mere odalisque could influence a Zar to back down. She held her breath as he took a steadying one and found his voice.

“Odalisque Ana, it is my painful task to advise that you will be escorted from here to the palace pits.

Tomorrow at dawn you will be taken from there, secured in a weighted velvet bag, rowed out on one of the barges to a private spot on the river, and drowned.” He paused and Ana understood that even in his anger he had chosen the least painful death he could contrive…but it was still execution that he was obliged to order. “And there at the bottom of the royal river I hope you find peace and the people you have lost.”

Ana nodded. Those were the first meaningful words she had heard during this meeting. “Thank you, Zar Boaz. I shall be reunited with my uncle Horz and Kett—all of us executed on your order. I shall be candid with you. I am not afraid to die. I am more afraid to live.” Boaz turned to the eunuch. “Salmeo, leave us. I wish to say something to Ana in private. Make arrangements to have her taken to the pits in a few moments.” Salmeo’s tongue flicked out between the gap in his teeth to wet his lips and then say something, but then he obviously changed his mind. “At once, Highness,” he lisped.

When the huge man had departed, Boaz offered Ana his hand to help her to her feet.

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She took his gracious offer silently. “I want you to know that I am deeply sorry, Zar Boaz, for all the displeasure I have caused you personally. I meant you no insult. You have been nothing but generous to me.”

He regarded her through angry, wounded eyes. “Odalisque Ana, I cannot accept that apology. And I must tell you this before you go. No one else knows of this yet. You could say it is my parting gift to you on a night when I aimed to make you my wife.” She bit her lip, unsure of what was coming. “You may well be reunited with Horz of the Elim, as you say. I hope so. Kett will join you later, of course. But in case you were hoping, you will not find Lazar anywhere near your watery grave, Ana, no matter how hard you search.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, the hairs on the back of her neck lifting with dread anticipation, somehow knowing she was receiving the confirmation of what she believed to be true.

“I mean that he is alive. I am seeing him in a few hours.”

“Alive?” she whispered.

Boaz nodded. “Pez found him.” Ana found she could not speak as the truth of her fears of betrayal by two of her few allies settled like lead weights around her. “I’m sure Lazar will be devastated to learn that all his efforts to preserve your life with his own were in vain. Guard!”

“No, wait!”

“Too late, Ana. I have adored you since I first saw you and I would have treated you with kindness and tenderness all of your life. Your disdain for me and my position wounds me deeply; I suppose now I must learn to heal.”

The door opened and the Elim moved in, ready to escort Ana to the palace pits.

IRIDOR ALIGHTED ON THEspire above the grisly scene and he changed instantly to Pez so the tears could spill. He wept for his friend, he wept for her suffering, and he wept for all the supporters of Lyana.

Zafira’s life was the first to be lost in the battle. Though he knew it would not be the last, this was cold comfort as he looked down upon the tiny figure, broken, bloodied, and impaled upon her own temple’s new spire.

As if in respect for his grief, a cloud scudded across the sky and blocked the moonlight, casting the owl and the body into darkness. Pez gingerly moved down beside Zafira. He kissed her cool cheek and was alarmed when she gasped.

“Zafira!”

“Ah, Pez,” she whispered. “He came for me.”

“Don’t talk, I’ll—”

“Listen!” she croaked, coughing blood in her struggle. He held her head, as she no longer had the strength to do anything but remain slumped until she died. It was a wonder she had survived as long as Page 138

she had. “He asked a lot of questions about you.” Her breath was ragged. “I put him off your scent as best I could.”

“How?”

“By letting him hurt me and then making him think I was begging to tell him who Iridor is.” Pez felt his tears begin to flow again as she somehow, unbelievably, gave a pained burst of a laugh.

“Who did you accuse?”

“Salmeo,” she whispered. She took one last, shuddering breath and then was still, a smile on her face.

“Lyana speed you to her,” Pez said reverently, and then set about his ghoulish task of lifting Zafira’s near weightless body off the sharp spire.

Pez gave Zafira’s body to the sea, near the temple to which she had dedicated her life. When it was done he climbed back up the stairs to sit out on the roof, where he said another prayer for her soul and her sacrifice before once again returning to his owl shape.

Perched on the spire that had finally taken his friend’s life, he could see a small boat being rowed across by a single man.

ANA SAT ON THEcold ground of the area of the palace known as the pits and trembled. She groaned, wished Lazar had never come to her home in the foothills. Wished he had never come into her life.

He was alive. She hugged her knees tighter and allowed herself the luxury of self-pity. With only this night left in her life, what did it matter if she filled the hours with tears. She had no reason to be strong, no one to be strong for anymore. She welcome death, for everyone she had trusted since leaving her home had betrayed her—both the man she loved and the dwarf she had considered her closest friend. She hated them both in that moment, even more than Herezah or Salmeo. At least she had always known the propensity of the latter two for treachery. But Lazar and Pez! She wept harder and prayed that dawn would come fast and finish the misery.

Lyana indeed! If she was Lyana, where was the magic that might take her away from all this?

“DEAD?”

Pez nodded. He was back in his dwarf form, having flown down to the boat. Lazar had not been surprised to see him, but Pez’s news had stopped his friend from rowing any farther. They drifted for the moment as the former Spur digested the tidings. “I’ve just given her corpse to the sea. I thought it was fitting,” Pez added.

“So he’s declaring himself,” Lazar mused, his voice morose.

“Not really. Maliz believes no one will ever know about Zafira and presumably he took steps to hide his actions. Certainly the temple’s the loneliest of places—no one would have disturbed them.” Page 139

“But we have the truth.”

“Yes, he doesn’t know this, of course. He thinks Salmeo is Iridor.” He laughed bitterly. “Of course, the Grand Master Eunuch would make an incredibly big owl.”

“Cunning Zafira,” Lazar said. “Courageous to the last.”

“True. If you saw what a mess her body was, you’d understand just how brave she was.”

“So this is the beginning?”

“Yes. First blood to the demon. Not the last, I’m sure.”

Lazar didn’t respond to this comment. “You’ve spoken to Boaz?”

“We’ve put our differences behind us, or so he believes. He thinks I’m suffering jealousy over his

‘friendship’ with Tariq, or Maliz, I should say. Poor Boaz, if only he knew.”

“Would it make any difference?”

Pez frowned. “You’re right, probably not—how can we expect him to understand that Lyana is rising to battle it out with Maliz again. He is dealing with Tariq the Grand Vizier and obviously responding well to the man’s counsel, whilst we now see him only for the snake he is…the demon in disguise.”

“We have to be careful that the counsel he gives is not detrimental to you or Ana.”

“Or you.”

Lazar looked up from the oar he had been gently maneuvering to prevent them from turning in circles as they drifted.

“I’ve told you, you are as much a target as I am.”

“I don’t think so, Pez.”

“Still believe you’re a coincidence, eh?”

Lazar nodded, although he didn’t look completely confident.

“We’ll see. In the meantime, your Zar was shocked at my news of your being very alive, of course, but he was also thrilled. He wants to see you in secret in a few hours. You must arrive hooded.” Lazar nodded again. “And Ana?”

“I have not seen her,” Pez said, and offered no more. “Are you all right to keep rowing?”

“I’m not an invalid!”

Pez bristled at Lazar’s angry mood. “Good, because once Herezah learns the truth, she’ll start warming her bed for you,” he replied.

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15

The Grand Vizier sipped the sweetened wine and eyed his Zar, who seemed restless, distracted. “Yes, as I was saying, I had some business to attend to in the city. And I gather there’s been some excitement in my absence.”

Boaz turned from the window, tearing his gaze from the Sea Temple. “Excitement? I suppose you could call sentencing two people I like to hideous deaths exciting.”

“I’m sorry, my Zar, that was tactless of me. This task seems to be a habit for you.”

“Odalisque Ana is my First Chosen. I had hoped to make her a Favorite; more, perhaps.”

“You are that fond of her? Already?”

“She is my equal,” he replied softly. And when the Vizier raised his eyebrows at the comment, Boaz explained, “Not in status, obviously. But her mind is sharp and agile. She is mysterious. Her peers are like open books that are read without much interest, whilst Ana is closed, fascinating. The others are also vain, already scheming for my attention, whilst Ana—easily the most beautiful—is hardly aware of the effect she has on me. I could never be bored around her.”

“My, my, that sounds like a woman to hang on to.”

“Except she’s determined to shun this role in the harem. I simply can’t save her from herself.” Maliz realized which woman he was talking about. Although he hadn’t met her, Tariq’s memories gave him the knowledge he needed. He remembered now talking to Tariq during the preparations for the Spur’s flogging—which had come about because of this same woman. An intensely exquisite-looking woman, he recalled. “What happened?”

“She attempted another escape.” Boaz smiled in spite of his mood, sounded almost proud to the Vizier.

“Truly audacious this time. She could have gotten away with it if not…”

“If not for?”

“Salmeo. My mother, too, I suspect.”

Maliz’s inward sneer at the mention of the fat eunuch nearly showed itself, but he reined in his reaction.

“Why would the Valide have any interest in the girl?”

“She has every interest in who I might eventually take for a wife. I think she might have feared this was happening too early.”

“Zars far younger than you have taken wives, Majesty.”

“But they didn’t have Herezah for a mother, Tariq. I could be wrong but I imagine my mother sees every potential lover of mine as a wife and thus a threat to her own power. It has only been a year since I took the throne. I would hazard she had hoped for a little longer to build her own empire.”

“Your choosing Favorites, wives, even siring heirs, is not something your mother can avoid for long.” Page 141

Boaz looked awkward at the thought of children so soon. “No, but with Ana it was probably happening too fast. It’s true I would have elevated her quickly.”

“And death is unavoidable?”

“You know the rules, Tariq.”

“Not of the harem necessarily.”

“Attempted escape is one of the worst sins, but the worst—in the eyes of the harem down the ages—is commiting adultery, cuckolding the Zar.”

“She didn’t!” Maliz exclaimed, outwardly sympathetic but privately delighted by the tale.

“No, I don’t believe she did, but she refuses to defend herself against the claim, and both Salmeo and the Valide unfortunately discovered her in a very compromising position. What they saw can’t be argued unless Ana herself can prove otherwise.”

“A very twisted web. And so she and the person who helped her escape must die, I’m presuming.” Boaz’s expression melted from suppressed to open pain. “Correct. I have no choice, much in the same way as I had little choice with Horz. Ana has broken ancient, sacred rules not once but twice…and, indeed, so has Kett.”

“Kett?”

“The black eunuch. We grew up together, can you believe. We were playmates until my position in my father’s reckoning became all too obvious and my mother did not want us remaining close.” Boaz smiled sadly. “It’s strange, you know, when we were little I had this whimsical notion that Kett reminded me of a bird. He used to flit around, always busy, always industrious…usually dreaming up games for us to play. My sorrowful little black bird.”

Something ticked in the back of Maliz’s mind but he was exhausted from his exertions at the temple, as well as mellowed from the wine coursing through his veins. He was already pouring a third cup, and he was having such fun with this tale of woe that he paid scant attention to the nudge of familiarity. “So, deaths at dawn, I’m guessing?” When his Zar gave him another look of exasperation at the heavy wit, he put up a hand to ward off the reprimand. “Forgive me, Highness, I don’t mean to be insensitive. But if I can help you look at this objectively, please permit me to say that this woman could have made a mockery of you. This cannot be tolerated. Your father ruled with a tough fist, my Zar, and you could do a lot worse than follow in those footsteps. Too much leeway in a place like the harem—a place that exists only because of a very rigid structure, an adherence to ritual and ancient rules—can bring down a dynasty if un-checked.” He saw Boaz’s skeptical look and shook his head. “No, hear me out. If the people sense that their Zar can’t control his own women, what respect do you think they’ll give the Crown? Your manner of ruling must begin with the harem.

“In truth, I like the way you’re creating your own traditions, but it would be dangerous, my Zar, to allow anyone—and I include Salmeo and the Valide in this respectfully—too much familiarity with you. The harem is the true seat of your power. It’s the secretiveness of it all that adds the luster to the names of the Zars of Percheron down the ages. The traditions, the structure, they must be protected at all costs, otherwise I feel you could be toppled from within.” He could tell Boaz was paying attention now. “At Page 142

least no real harm has been done and you have an entire harem of no doubt unbelievably beautiful girls to work your way through. I saw them as youngsters but the older ones would have matured this past year.

Truly, such incredible choice. It is far better to spread your seed amongst them than to become too devoted to one so early, especially one so head-strong, my Zar.” Boaz looked crestfallen. “My father once said something quite similar to that. He said a wise Zar lay with as many in his harem as he could, and should have many, many sons so he could choose the perfect apprentice and the most suitable heir.”

“The advice is sound. Lots of sons, Majesty. It not only keeps the women on their toes but the obvious advantage is that you can select the ideal candidate to give your precious crown to.” Boaz sighed. “Ana’s execution is at dawn—it will be a private drowning, the harem way. I refuse to be present. Kett’s will be at noon—a public ganching.”

“That should bring a crowd running—we haven’t had one of those in a while.” Boaz looked aggrieved. “Forgive me, Tariq, I have an appointment to keep,” the Zar said abruptly, putting down his own goblet to end their meeting.

Maliz was surprised. “So late?”

“Er, yes.”

“Must be someone important to keep a Zar from his bed,” Maliz prodded

“I won’t be doing much sleeping tonight, Tariq. I might as well keep working.”

“Of course, of course. I did have a few things to discuss with you, my Zar, but all can wait for the morning.”

“Good. Until then. Salazin will see you out.” He gave the signal.

Outside the door Maliz signed to his spy:I must know who he is seeing.

Salazin nodded, signing urgently:What about the priestess? You said you were going to see her.

She will trouble me no more,the demon signed back.

And Salazin smiled tightly.

ON HIS RETURN TOBoaz’s chambers, the Zar sent Salazin to the main gate.

“There should be a hooded figure waiting for you,” was all the Zar signed “and he will be carrying a parchment with my seal that permits him entry up to my chambers.” He found the visitor as his Zar had instructed, but despite all the royal arrangements, four of the Elim searched the man before escorting him to the Zar’s wing of the palace. Outside his suite, the Elim broke away and left Lazar with the four fearsome-looking mutes.

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Pez came skipping down the corridor to meet him.

“These are interesting fellows,” Lazar murmured.

“Vizier’s orders,” Pez muttered back before breaking into a song about crocodiles eating the royal barges.

Bin met them. He bowed as he did to all visitors. “The Zar has asked me to admit you upon presentation of his seal”—he eyed the hooded figure with unabashed curiosity—“although this is most unusual.” Lazar said nothing, held out the small piece of thick parchment that carried the Zar’s seal, the uniqueness of the wax indisputable.

“Thank you. Please wait a moment.” Bin knocked before disappearing into the room, with Salazin hot on his heels. Pez was flapping his arms as if trying to fly and spouting a new rhyme about elephant droppings.

Bin emerged and gestured to Lazar to come forward. “You may enter.” At Pez’s movement to also join the visitor, Bin objected. “Er, Pez, don’t you think…”

“No, no, don’t touch me,” Pez shrieked. “The Zar is my friend. I need pomegranates, and he’s got them all!”

Bin stepped back. He didn’t want to provoke a repeat of Pez’s last screaming performance. He looked at the visitor, embarrassed. Lazar shrugged as if to say it mattered not to him, and so Pez, clutching the stranger’s robes, danced into the Zar’s chambers, sticking out his tongue at the astonished secretary.

Inside, Bin apologized to his Zar as Pez hopped around the room, sniffing loudly and calling for hidden pomegranates.

“He can stay,” Boaz said, his eyes on the bowing visitor, who was hidden from head to toe by the jamoosh.

“Can I serve refreshments, Majesty?”

“No. I want privacy now. We require nothing farther.”

The servant looked disappointed. “Thank you, Highness,” Bin said, bowing and backing out of the chamber.

There was a moment’s awkward pause after the door closed. Pez damped down his noise to a soft humming.

The hooded figure inclined his head toward Salazin. “A new friend, my Zar?” Boaz smiled slightly. It felt like a comforting warmth to hear that familiar, albeit sarcastic voice again.

“This is Salazin; he’s a mute. One of the new retinue of bodyguards the Grand Vizier insists upon. He can neither speak nor hear. We three are alone, in effect.”

Lazar pulled off the jamoosh and Boaz, preparing to embrace the man, stepped back, shocked. “Your Page 144

hair!” was all he could stammer.

“After all that’s happened, my Zar, I thought I should be completely honest with you.”

“What does this mean?”

“This is my true coloring.”

“And the beard?”

Lazar shrugged. “In case I needed a disguise.”

“I see. Anything else I should know?” Boaz asked, still stunned both by having Lazar before him and by Lazar’s dramatic appearance.

“One more thing. I am not from Merlinea. I am a Galinsean.” Another shock. “Galinsean! But—”

Lazar, ever impatient, interrupted. “Everything I apparently stand against, yes, Majesty. Forgive me and my past deception. It is a long story and the lie I told so many years ago was for protection—both Percheron’s and mine. I was young, cautious. And then after your father’s generosity, I didn’t want to let him down, and because I gave my heart to Percheron, the lie never felt dangerous. I have never been a threat to this realm—never once since stepping foot into your city have I given anything but profound loyalty to the Percherese Crown. Nothing has changed since the attempt on my life…other than my hair color.”